


When All Is Said And Done

by hanged_albatross



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brief mention of suicidal ideations, Canon-Typical Violence, Hunter and Echo being good bros, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Torture, Mission Fic, References to other Clone Wars characters, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:01:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 57,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25459753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanged_albatross/pseuds/hanged_albatross
Summary: A year after Order 66, The Bad Batch finds themselves cornered by the threat of the Empire and the need to take increasingly dangerous jobs to stay afloat.Just as the team seems to be reaching their breaking point, a job is offered that appears to good to be true.But when it all goes wrong, the Bad Batch must fight to survive in a galaxy turned against them and save one of their own.
Comments: 43
Kudos: 111





	1. Ship to Wreck

**Author's Note:**

> small brain: 2021 Bad Batch Show is so far away :(  
> galaxy brain: write your own BB content 
> 
> aka after the show was announced this story instantly formed in my mind. Yes, it will be cliche and predictable, but we all do what we have to in order to survive quarantine.

In Echo’s opinion, there were only so many times a person could clean their weapon before it became pointless. Crosshair obviously didn’t believe the same as he began to disassemble his sniper rifle for that seemed to be the hundredth time that morning.

Tech suddenly slammed the scanner he had been repairing onto the table, jarring Wrecker out of his nap. The larger clone woke with a start and grabbed the pistol that was nestled behind the couch cushion, looking for the threat.

  
“Will you cut that out?!” Tech yelled.

  
Crosshair, sensing a fight, gave a sly grin as he moved the toothpick from the left side of his mouth to the right. “Feeling a little tetchy today, Tech-y? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  
Echo was one room over in the cockpit, working on rewiring the flight console. He let out an annoyed sigh as he tried to focus on the jumbled wires above him. The Bad Batch had been cooped up in their ship for the better part of a week after a run-in with an Imperial fighter. After the fighter had gone up in flames, there was too much heat on the group. Hunter had decided that they should lay low on a back-water planet and not take any jobs for a while, much to Wreckers dismay.

He had known that they were all close to reaching their breaking point as to how long they could stand to be in the same four rooms with each other. Hunter had realized the same yesterday after Wrecker almost threw him across the ship for moving his caff mug. Their leader had begun to search for a low risk mercenary job, but ever since the Empire had moved into the sector, the risk of every job began to increase.

  
“That clicking noise! You have been doing it in exactly 5.23 minute intervals for the past two hours. I am trying to concentrate on something important.”

  
“Are you saying my weapon ain’t important?”

  
“Not when it makes that insufferable noise!”

  
“What noise? This one?” Crosshair pulled back on the chamber and let it slam shut, causing a sharp metallic _clink_.

  
“Yes!”

  
“Oi, I was trying to sleep,” Wrecker grumbled, putting the blaster back between the cushions.

  
“I’m sorry, Wrecker, did the sound of real work wake you up?” Crosshair said.

  
Wrecker frowned. “I dunno.”

  
“Well Tech here finds this noise annoying,” Crosshair repeated the motion. _Clink_. “Does that annoy you?” _Clink. Clink. Clink_.

  
Tech stood up from his work bench and launched himself at Crosshair, who had already dropped into a defensive position. Wrecker, whose reflexes were faster than his large size should allow, caught Tech halfway there. Tech was amusingly small in the arms of his much larger brother.

  
“Aw, let him go Wrecker. I think little Tech-y needs a reminder of why he stays on the sidelines.” Crosshair goaded, causing Tech to give a very undignified yell and squirm in Wrecker’s grip.

  
The yell distracted Echo for just a moment, but it was long enough for him to accidentally touch two live wires. It sent a jolt of electricity through his body, which his cybernetic implants definitely did not agree with. The flare of pain started in his artificial legs and traveled all the way to the crown of his head.  
Ever since the Arc Trooper had been rescued from the Techno-Union, he had a constant headache. The doctors back on Kamino had said it was due to the ordeal he had been through, and the fact that half of his skull had been reconstructed with cybernetics. Most days it was manageable, staying for the most part in his left temple. But every second the Batcher’s yelling continued, the more it grew until he could barely form a coherent thought. He slid himself from under the console and stormed into the common area.

  
“Will you please just shut up! I’m trying to make sure the hyper-jump plotter will actually work the next time we’re running away from the Empire.”

  
“Oh, Echo, were my activities distracting you as well?” Crosshair said, turning on his heel to face him.

  
Echo’s cybernetic legs gave him a solid four inches of height on the sniper, but whenever Crosshair got worked up like this, he had a way of puffing out his chest that could make even Wrecker look small.

  
“Listen, I know it’s been hard being cooped up,” Echo said, taking a step back and rubbing at his temples. “But we need to keep it together just a little bit longer.”

  
“What we need is another job,” Wrecker pouted, “I haven’t gotten to smash anything in…” he trailed off, seeming to have an issue recalling how much time had passed since his last destructive rampage.

  
Tech used that time to pull from Wrecker’s grip. “Well that’s the damn reason we’re in this mess! If you hadn’t blown up that Imperial Fighter, we would’ve gotten away clean!”

  
“Don’t forget, you were in charge of monitoring the security feeds. How did that patrol get past you again?” Crosshair jeered.

  
“I told you, there was a blind spot!”

  
“Hmm. I wouldn’t know. I never have a blind spot; I don’t make excuses. I do my job.”

  
Faster than even Crosshair anticipated, Tech threw a right hook. It caught the sniper square across the jaw. After taking a half-second to process what happened, Crosshair snarled and stepped into Tech’s space. Going for a classic grapple, his leg hooked behind Tech’s and after a shift in weight, both of them flipped to the ground.  
Echo threw his arms into the air in frustration, knowing better than to try and break it up. Wrecker, not knowing any better, seemed to be trying to judge when the best time to jump into the scrap would be.

  
“Don't,” Echo warned.

  
“Don’t what?” The new voice caused everyone to pause.

  
Hunter strode into the room, data pad in hand. He stood next to Echo, crossing his arms and scowling at the two Batcher’s on the ground.

  
“What is going on?” Hunter repeated sharply.

  
Tech, who had surprisingly managed to pin Crosshair, jumped to his feet. “Crosshair started it!”

  
Crosshair spat out half of a broken toothpick. “Don’t be childish!”

  
“I don’t care who started it,” Hunter yelled. “I can’t leave for ten minutes without someone making a mess of things.”

  
“Hang on, what did I do?” Echo said defensively.

  
“I told you to watch them.”

  
“You also told me to fix the plotter.”

  
“I didn’t do anything!” Wrecker pointed out, seeming very pleased with himself.

  
Crosshair slowly stood back up, shooting Tech a dirty look. “That may be the first time that’s happened.”

  
“Well, if you’d all stop bickering, I have some news that might make everyone feel better.” Hunter held up his data-pad. “I was just contacted by Ka’vah.”

  
“A job?” Wrecker was practically vibrating with excitement.  
  
“That’s right.”

She’s only a few hours away with the hyperdrive.” Echo said, “Do you think it’s safe to leave yet?”

  
“Who cares!” Wrecker said.

  
“I think the heat’s died down enough to risk it,” Hunter said. “But we’ll need to play it safe. Ka’vah said to keep a low profile.”

  
Echo laughed dryly, “That’s rich, coming from her.”

  
“It’s also concerning. That’s why just Echo, Crosshair, and myself will make contact. Tech, since you feel like sparring today, you can watch Wrecker.”

  
“That’s not fair!” Wrecker cried, crossing his arms. “You know I’m Ka’vah’s favorite.”

  
“That’s because whenever you and Ka’vah are in the same space, one of you always starts something. And once you start something, everything starts breaking.”

  
Wrecker considered this, and shrugged, “Alright.”

  
“Sorry Tech-y,” Crosshair sneered, “Seems like you’re sidelined. Again.”

  
“And that’s enough out of you,” Hunter said, stepping between the two clones. “Crosshair, go start up the engine, we’re taking off in ten. Tech, I want those scanners up and searching for anything Imperial.”

  
‘Yes, sir’ they both muttered, slinking away to their stations on opposite sides of the ship.

  
“Echo, walk with me.” Hunter said suddenly, turning and walking towards the cockpit.

  
Echo raised an eyebrow, but followed. The only other time he had heard Hunter use that specific phrase was when Echo had first joined the Bad Batch. They had just taken off and were settling into the lull of hyperspace when Hunter gently touched his shoulder. Echo had nearly jumped out of his seat, not yet used to the sensation of warm hands.

  
Hunter shot him an apologetic look. “Walk with me.”

  
Echo had been confused, but followed Hunter to the small kitchen. He noticed that the rest of the Batch had made a point to scatter, giving them as much privacy as the small ship allowed. Hunter silently made Echo a mug of mint tea, then they sat. And they talked. It started with easy questions- who he would like to room with, any requisitions he wanted to fill when they got to Kamino, what he liked to do in his spare time. Then, without Echo even noticing that the conversation turned, an ugly truth began to spill from his lips.  
The Citadel. The explosion, followed by darkness. Then, slipping moments of consciousness where he would find himself strapped to a table, waves of agony instantly taking him back into the darkness. Creating battle plans for the Techno-Union, for the Separatists, for the Enemy. And the worst part, what was more agonizing than the tubes running through his veins? It was that even though he was compelled by forces beyond his control, he was aware. He was aware of the fact that with every new battle plan he devised, brothers would die as a result. Suddenly, unbearable consciousness and being cradled in Rex’s arms.  
Hours had ticked by, leaving him exhausted from the emotional catharsis. Echo had never experienced anything like it before. Even when droids were carving away burned flesh and welding metal in its place, he had never cried. Hunter had just sat and listened, never interrupting. When Echo was too tired to continue, Hunter led him to an empty bunk without a word.

  
This time, they just walked to the cockpit and Hunter sat down in the pilot seat. His hands moved across the console, beginning the pre-departure routine. Echo remained standing, even as Hunter gestured to the co-pilot seat.

  
“What is it?”

  
“I’ve been … thinking. A lot, the past few days.”

  
“I thought we left that to Wrecker,” Echo said, causing Hunter to give a huff of laughter.

  
“No. About our situation with the Empire.”

  
“You’re not thinking about joining them?”

  
“Of course not. And you know I don’t want to fight them head on. I mean, we don’t know whose under those helmets.”

  
Echo closed his eyes and sighed. “Yeah.”

  
“Our only option, then, is hiding.”

  
“Well that that hasn’t worked out great so far.”

  
“That’s why I was thinking that after this job, we-,” Hunter paused, hand lingering on a switch. “We split up.”

  
“What?!”

  
“Just for a little while! A group of five clones attracts too much attention. But if we split up; Wrecker and Tech, then you and Crosshair. We’ll regroup in a few months, and the Empire will have forgotten all about us.”

  
“I don’t know,” Echo said hesitantly. “I don’t think the rest of the Batch will like that idea.”

  
“I know. But you understand, right?”

  
“I guess.” Echo paused. “What about you?”

  
“What about me?”

  
“Which group will you go with?”

  
“Neither.”

  
Echo blinked. “You want to be out there, alone?”

  
“I don’t want to be,” he said defensively. “But there’s some things I need to look into, and it’s safer if I do it alone.”

  
“Oh, really? What sort of things?”

  
“I can’t say.”

  
Echo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So now you’re keeping secrets?”

  
“It’s not like that.”

  
“Like hell it isn’t!”

  
There was a quick knock on the doors before it opened to Crosshair. “Engine’s hot and ready to go.” His eyes darted between the two. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

  
“No.” Hunter said, “Tell Tech he’s up first to co-pilot. I want to get the hell out of here.” He turned back to Echo, the heaviness in his voice from just a moment ago was gone and replaced with the normal bravado. “We’ll finish this conversation later, yeah?”

  
Echo walked out without a response, back to the common area and sat. For the past year, for worse or better, the Bad Batch stuck together. The thought of them being apart didn’t sit well. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, resting it on the bulkhead. The ship gave a steady hum as it took off, and Echo began losing himself in thought. Memories of the Domino squadron slowing falling piece by piece.

  
As much as they squabbled, Echo just couldn’t picture himself not falling asleep to the sound of Tech typing furiously, or waking early in the mornings when Wrecker yelled at the caff maker to work faster. He couldn’t imagine playing a game of sabacc without Crosshair (who was quite terrible at the game) sitting to his left and calling every bluff to no avail. And, as much as he hated to admit it, when the memories, the really bad ones, began to surface and threaten to overtake him, he couldn’t imagine anyone except Hunter speaking softly to try and bring him back into the present.

  
Echo hadn’t even noticed that he had nodded off, until the nightmares began.

* * *

  
“We’re here!” Tech’s voice jarred Echo awake.

  
He had fallen asleep in a rather uncomfortable sitting position, and when he stood up and stretched his back, an implant shifted uncomfortably.

  
“Why didn’t anyone wake me up sooner?”

  
Tech shot him a sympathetic look. “It was the longest we’d seen you asleep in a while. Hunter said to let you be.”

  
Echo grumbled nothing in particular, walking to his locker. He began to piece together parts of his grey and blue armor as the rest of the Batch gathered in the common room.

  
Tech made a point to ignore Crosshair, who seemed just as happy to oblige. “Nothing Imperial in the city, or at least nothing that I can detect on the scanners. Ka’vah’s bar should just have the normal crowd of low life’s and bounty hunters.”

  
“Okay. Normal rules- 10-minute check in. If any of us miss two in a row, we regroup.” Hunter said, sliding a knife into a sheath that was hidden under his long duster.

  
Echo grabbed his brown jacket and slid it on, concealing the GAR issued chestplate. He had also let his hair grow out over the past year, hiding the ports embedded into his skull. With the non-regulations cut, and the mixture of civvies and armor, he almost looked like a run-of-the-mill bounty hunter.

  
Wrecker elbowed Echo and whispered, “Tell Ka’vah I said hi?”

  
“Of course, buddy. I’ll send her your love.”

  
Wrecker grinned sly, elbowing him one last time for good measure. Echo slid the last piece of his armor, a gauntlet, on and nodded to Hunter. Crosshair slung his massive rifle over a shoulder and also nodded. Without another word, the party of three headed out into the night.

  
The planet where Ka’vahs bar resided was dense with jungle and was unbearably humid, even at night. Echo only knew of one settlement on the entire planet, which was where they were headed. He remembered always being surprised at the size of the city, since it was so remote. However, it was mostly populated by criminals and bounty hunters, which made every trip eventful. Maybe that was why Hunter had decided to land the ship about a quarter mile from the small city. Echo readied himself for the ruck through dense brush and mud.

  
Hunter jogged in front of them, disappearing into the dark. A minute later, the noise of boots in the mud and the occasional rustle of the underbrush was gone. Hunter had completely vanished into the moonless night, but Echo knew he was still nearby. He fell into stride with Crosshair.

  
“So did you apologize?”

  
“To who?”

  
“Tech.”

  
Crosshair snorted. “Yeah right.”

  
“You should.” Echo said pointedly. “What if something happened? You wouldn’t want your last conversation to be a sparring match.”

  
“Oh, spare me the guilt trip.” Crosshair groaned. “I don’t like fighting with him, but if he doesn’t just find the right way to push all my buttons.”

  
Echo laughed. “Little brothers will do that to you.”

  
Crosshair cocked his head. “He’s not the youngest, if you’re going by decanting age.”

  
“No, joining order. He’s the newest. Well, besides myself.”

  
“How’d you figure that?”

  
“He just has that sort of energy,” Echo said. “I’ve been around enough Batches- well, reg Batches- to figure out the joining order.”

  
“No one told you the order?”

  
“Nobody had to.”

  
“What is it then?”  
“Well, Hunter must have been first, to establish the Batch. Next it was definitely you. Then I’m guessing Wrecker, shortly followed by Tech.”

  
“Very impressive. So does that make you the new baby brother?”

  
“I’m older than all of you,” Echo pointed out.

  
“I thought we weren’t going by decanting age?”

  
“Were not.”

  
“My apologies. I shall bow to your wisdom,” Crosshair said sarcastically. “And I’ll apologize as soon as Tech does.”

  
“You’re impossible.”

  
“Of course I am. And look, here we are.”

  
As they crested a hill, the small city came into sight. Although it was nowhere near the size of Coruscant, it still filled the valley it resided in. Yellow lights flickered in shop windows and in homes as the night life bustled throughout the city.

  
Hunter, appearing from the shadows, stood next to Crosshair. “It’s clear to Ka’vahs. Tech was right- no Empire.”

  
“At least we caught a break there,” Echo said as they descended into the outskirts of the city.

  
They walked through the dark, damp side streets until they arrived at a nondescript metal building. There was no sign to show what type of business was run out of it, and the windows were one way looking out. The only feature that differentiated it from the rest on that block was the purple light that hung above the doorway.

  
“I’m starting to remember why I hate coming here.” Crosshair said.

  
“Let’s just keep our heads down.” Hunter said. “As soon as we get the job chit, we’re out.”

  
Hunter pushed the door open, and Echo instantly regretted being voluntold for the rendezvous. The bar was packed with what seemed to be every species in the galaxy. Most of the room was taken up by a large dance floor, where bright colored lights flashed and pulsed. There was a sea of bodies writhing and grinding against each other to the beat of the music. The entire back wall was taken up by the bar, and the few booths were filled with shady looking beings, whispering and sliding chits and credits under the table.  
Echo did a quick mental run through of all the threats he could see. There were, of course, dozens of people armed to the teeth but nothing that posed any real threat to them. Their group had only taken one collective step through the door before a thunderous voice, louder than the music, echoed through the bar.

  
“There they are!” the voice boomed, causing most people to turn their head and look directly at the clones. “My favorite boys!”

  
“There goes any chance at being covert.” Echo muttered.

  
A large Torgrutan strode across the crowded space with ease, since everyone in her path parted. She was easily six feet without her montrals, which added an extra foot to her towering size. The blue-and-white striped leku fell to her waist, and were adorned in golden jewelry, as was the rest of her body. But, in contrast, she wore a simple white dress.

  
“Ka’vah.” Hunter said, not bother to hide the annoyance that tinged his voice, “I thought you said we were supposed to be discreet.”

  
She grinned, revealing large fangs, and threw an arm around Echo. He felt incredibly small next to her. “I’m sorry, darling. I just missed you all. Wait. Where is the big one? He’s always so much fun.”

  
“Like I said, we were trying to be discreet.”

  
She shook her head, the jewelry rattling. “That was before the Imperial Forces withdrew this morning! Now is the time to celebrate!”

  
“Why would they just up and leave?” Crosshair said.

  
“No idea! I’m just glad that wretched destroyer is out of the sky. Good riddance,” she huffed. “Can I get you anything to drink? On the house, as always.”

  
“This isn’t a social call,” Hunter replied.

  
“It’s always a social call here,” she said, flagging down a cocktail girl. “Leie, three scotches and the fruitiest cocktail you have for my private booth.”

  
“Yes, ma’am,” the waitress said, and disappeared into the crowd.

  
Ka’vah motioned to follow and escorted them to a secluded booth. The wall that framed the circular leather seat muffled the music, and the lighting was a dim purple glow. She slid in the booth first, with Echo sitting to her right and Hunter to the left. Crosshair remained standing, his back to the table, facing out into the crowd.

  
“So. I heard about the last job you crazy kids did. Blowing up an Imperial Fighter hanger?” she tisked, “Very risky.”

  
“In our defense, it was Wrecker’s idea. And it was just one fighter,” Echo said.

  
“Oh no, I love it!” Ka’vah said. “The dramatics, the flare. But you’re going to have to a bit sneakier for this job.” Her voice then dropped to something sultrier. “You can always leave the big one with me, I’d make sure to take nice care of him.

  
Crosshair gave a disgusted grunt.

  
“You don’t even know if we’ll take the job,” Hunter pointed out.

  
“Oh I guarantee that you will.”

  
She laid her data pad on the table and brought up a holo. It was the geographical layout of a mountainous area, and she zoomed in between two ridges. Zooming in further, there was a tall fence with a guard tower in each corner. The grainy image continued to move in until a warehouse came into view.

  
“The client needs a team to infiltrate this compound and recover some… misplaced property.” She said, “In, out, as little mess as possible. Undetected, if possible.”

  
“Who's guarding it?” Crosshair asked, not even bothering to look over his shoulders. Echo could see his keen eyes tracking one person as they moved across the bar, then quickly flickering to the next person who made a too-quick movement.

  
“It’s Imperial,” she said, “Which is why I thought of you.”

  
“I already told you, we’re staying away from the Empire,” Hunter said, starting to stand. “We may be crazy, but I know better than to pick a fight that we can’t win.”

  
Ka’vah raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  
“Hang on Hunter.” Echo said, “We should at least hear her out.”

  
She gave him a broad grin, and patted the space next to her. Hunter shot Echo a dirty look before sitting back down.

  
“Thank you,” she said. “Oh look! The drinks are here.”

  
The waitress placed three caramel colored drinks on the table, then handed a bright pink drink with an umbrella to Crosshair.

  
“What’s this!” Crosshair cried.

  
“Oh, you’ll love it. You can barely taste the alcohol.” She grabbed her glass and drained it. “As I was saying, the reason I thought of you boys. I couldn’t get much from the client, except for where the package was originally from.”

  
Echo felt a chill race up his spine. “Don’t say-.”

  
“Kamino.”

  
All three clones immediately exchanged looks.

  
“And.” she added, leaning in close to Echo. He could smell sweet perfume clinging to her skin, now mixed with a sharp tinge of scotch. “It is in a cryo-box.”

  
“Oh, please,” Crosshair said. “That could be anything! You don’t know that it relates to … our people.”

  
“You’re right. It could be Bantha jerky for all I know. But,” she paused for dramatic effect. “It could be a genetic key. You know, the blueprint of every clone in the galaxy. You won’t know until you check.”

  
Hunter scowled. “And if it is that, what guarantee do you have that we’ll deliver it to the client? Seems like a losing proposition for you.”

  
She laughed. “Oh, I’m almost certain that whatever is in the cryo-box has nothing to do with clones. But your curiosity is stronger than your smarts, so you’ll take the job. It will turn out to be nothing, and you’ll get paid for your waste of time. And I’ll receive a finder’s fee.” She grabbed the glass that had been placed in front of Echo and also drained it, slamming it back on the table. “You see, I’m a professional gambler, and I like those odds.”

  
“We’ll get yourself some other idiots.” Crosshair scoffed, motioning to the holo, “I’m guessing that a compound that size has at least a platoon guarding it, as well as an AT-AT or two for good measure. And that’s assuming we even make it through the orbital defense that’s set up around the planet.”

  
“Seems like too much of a risk for such a thin lead,” Echo said. “I mean, maybe if we had a guarantee that it was a genetic key, and we hired another crew to work with us. But just us five?”

  
“We’re not taking it, right boss?” Crosshair said. “Right, boss?”

  
Hunter didn’t respond, instead staring intently at the grain of the wooden table. Echo knew Ka’vah was just baiting them to take a job everyone else before them had refused. But damn, if she hadn’t set up the perfect trap.

  
The Bad Batch had been obsessed with recovering anything from Kamino that they could pertaining to clones. Anything to try and help them understand their mutations, or that could help with Echo’s altered state. And, although none of them ever said it aloud, maybe something that could stop their advanced aging. All the answers would be in a genetic key.

  
“We’re taking the job.” Hunter said, sounding defeated. “Send all the information and the chit to my data pad. We’ll get it done.”

“You can’t be serious!” Crosshair said.

  
“Dead. But I’m warning you right now, Ka’vah, if has anything to do with clones, we are not delivering it.”

  
She shrugged. “Seems fair. But if my client comes around asking, I won’t protect you.”

  
“Seems fair,” Hunter shot back, standing up and walking towards the door without another word.

  
Crosshair sat his empty glass back down on the table, and followed close behind. Echo remained seated, staring at the holo. Something wasn’t sitting right, but he couldn’t quite place it.

  
“Something wrong? Or do you just enjoy my company?”

  
“If we do this, the Empire won’t stop coming after us.” Echo said, looking Ka’vah directly in the eye. “You know that.”

  
She shrugged, averting her gaze, now picking up Hunter’s still full glass. “As much as I love you boys, business is business. We’ll all walk away from this much richer people.”  
“Credits won’t do us much good if we're dead.”

“No, but it will help,” she laughed lightly. “Take care, Echo. And don’t tell Hunter this, but I do hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  
Echo stood with a sigh and made his way out of the bar. A very somber feeling began to overtake him. After pushing through the last cluster of people, he rejoined the other two clones. They seemed to be in a very animated argument.

  
“Hunter-.” Echo started, interrupting whatever rant Crosshair was in the middle of.

  
Hunter held up his hand. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m retrieving that case, but I won’t force anyone to come with me.”

  
“Of course we’ll come, idiot,” Crosshair said. “We’re in this together.”

  
Echo nodded in agreement.

  
“Then let’s get back to the ship. We have lots of planning to do.”

  
As they began their trek, Echo realized the last time he had felt a sense of dread like this. It had been on the way to the Citadel.


	2. Falling

“I swear Hunter, if the next job isn’t on a tropical planet-.” Tech’s complaint broke mid-sentence as he slipped on a patch of ice. 

He righted himself and readjusted his heavy pack, shooting Hunter a dirty look. Well, Echo assumed that was Tech’s expression based on the tilt of his helmet. 

The Bad Batch was fully armored and strapped to the teeth with weapons, a look they had not sported in several months. Apparently maintaining a low profile included not parading around in his full GAR armor, a rifle slung over his back and pistol holstered on his right hip. 

The Imperial compound was located on a mountainous planet that constantly endured arctic conditions. Currently, there was two feet of compact snow between the Bad Batch and their objective. For everyone except Hunter it was difficult to get their bearings since the planet was plunged in constant darkness, and it was (not so coincidentally) a moonless night. Their only source of light came from the dull green glow of the night vision HUD.

“I’m going to have to back Tech up on this one.” Crosshair’s voice came in warbled through the comm. “I’m freezing up here. Not to mention the wind speed is hell to compensate for.” 

“Ooo, you gonna miss the shot?” Wrecker said, cutting through a heavy snow bank with ease. “You’ll have to do a lot of ‘compensating’ to catch up to my kill count!”

“How many times do I have to tell you, blowing up a ship does not count!”

A sharp gale of freezing wind sliced through the dense pine forest they were currently hiking through. It was cold enough to be felt through armor and blacks. Echo winced when a mechanical component in his right calf momentarily froze up. He stumbled forward, but a strong hand grabbed the back of his breastplate. Echo looked back to see Hunter steadying him. 

“You good?”

“Fine,” Echo muttered, not wanting Hunter to hear the strain in his voice. 

Wrecker, who was doing an excellent job as a snow plow, called out from the front of the group. “I can’t feel my toes.”

“When we’re back on the ship, I’ll make us all nice big cups of hot chocolate. Deal?” Hunter said.

“I’m holding you to that.” Tech replied. “According to my scanner, it’s three hundred meters to the compound.”

“I thought you said that three hundred meters ago?” Hunter replied, sounding rather amused for the situation they were facing. 

“Well, sub-zero conditions aren’t exactly ideal for delicate mechanical machinery.” Tech responded, trying to subtly nod his head towards Echo. 

“I'm fine,” growled Echo. 

Tech held up his hands defensively, which was bad for his balance and caused him to slip once again. 

“I just don’t want to spend another week repairing them. Remember the desert incident?”

Echo resigned with a sigh, knowing the Techno-Union hardware didn’t have the greatest track record when it came to extreme environments. The last desert planet they visited had left the skin grafted to metal severely burned and the mechanical components seized with sand. 

Hunter paused and crouched down, pressing a hand to the frozen ground. 

“We’re four hundred and thirty meters from the clearing, another additional twenty to the fence.”

“Then what's the point of my scanner?” Tech huffed.

“No, you were doing great!”

“I hate you.” 

Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Echo continued through the forest at a grueling pace. When the trees began to thin and the glow of artificial lights could be seen in the distance, Hunter held up a hand. The group came to a stop, and crouched down in the snow. 

“Crosshair, are you in position yet?” Hunter said into his comm. 

“In the nest, ready to go, with an excellent view of the compound.”

“What do you see?”

“Exactly what we were expecting. Three patrols and two guards in each tower. Six towers lit. Other than that it’s dead quiet.” There was a pause. “And there’s the relief patrol, right on time.”

“Two minutes until phase one begins. Get ready boys.”

Echo moved so that he was crouched behind a large pine tree and closed his eyes. He ran the plan over in his head for about the hundredth time that day. 

After their meeting with Ka’vah, the Bad Batch immediately traveled to the icy planet for recon and planning. It had taken a week of watching the compound to formulate their infiltration. They slept through what constituted ‘day’ on the sunless planet and at night would take shifts laying on a rocky ridge with binoculars, ignoring the snow that fell in droves. Hunter had assigned them watch shifts in pairs, and it took a few days for Echo to realize Hunter made an effort to make sure they were never paired together. 

“Well, what's the escape strategy?” Echo had said during a late night planning session. 

He was especially irritated, since he had tried to bring up his unfinished conversation with Hunter one morning, just to have him to brush Echo off without a second thought. It was followed by a long night of recon, in which they reconveined in the kitchen and slammed back about three mugs of caff each. They were in the process of finalizing Plan A, B, C, all the way to Z. 

“It seems like getting in is the easy part.” Echo started. 

“There's an easy part?” Crosshair said snidely.

Echo picked up the sugar canister someone had left on the table and moved to dump it into Crosshair’s caff. The resident sniper, who was notorious for drinking caff straight black, grabbed his half full mug and jumped backwards. 

“But out undetected?” Echo continued. “What if the cryo-case is hardwired to the security system? What about infrareds? There’s about a million ways to be detected even if the warehouse has minimum security.” 

“If I can hardwire into their network, I control everything. I can kill the alarms no problem, same goes for the power on the electrical fence.” Tech responded, not bothering up to look up from scrolling through two data-pads at once. “The only problem is I’m unsure for how long I can remain undetected.”

“Estimate?” Hunter said after a sip of caff.

“Five minutes?”

“Make it seven.” 

“So once we have the cryo-case in hand,” Echo said. “What then? Make a break for the fence and try and scale it- assuming the power is still shut off.”

“Easier said than done.” Crosshair pointed out. “That’s old fashioned barbed wire at the top. Now, the armor can take it but it’s easy to get tangled up in. And with a fragile cryo-case? That’s in itself is a five minute maneuver.”

“No, that's not going to work,” Hunter said. “We’d be too exposed with a hundred pissed off Imperials on us in a second. Any other suggestions?”

“Crosshair, how tall is that guard tower is?”’ Wrecker asked, pointing to one on the furthest left corner of the map. It was also the only guard tower that was on the outside of the fence. 

“‘Bout ten meters.”

“And how far is it from the fence?”

“Only five.”

Wrecker grinned. “When you're done, get over to that tower. The fence won’t be an issue.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Want to share with the class what you’re thinking?”

“Nope. But it’s gonna be awesome.”

“No explosions!”

“Cross my heart, boss.”

“Well, I guess that takes care of the extraction,” Hunter said hesitantly. “Rendezvous at the northwest guard tower. Wrecker will take it from there.”

“Those words make me  _ extremely _ nervous.” Crosshair said. 

Tech raised his hand. “And there is one last thing,” 

“And those words make  _ me _ extremely nervous,” Hunter said. “What's the bad news?”

“Once we’ve entered the compound, I believe that we’re going to have to maintain radio silence.” 

“No comms?” Crosshair said. 

“I’ve been monitoring the different frequencies coming from that area. It’s mostly just boring Imperial chatter, but I’ve been getting odd background interference in 6 second intervals. The signature is most common with high end scanning hardware. The second they detect an unverified frequency, they’ll be onto us.” 

Hunter chewed his lip. “Fine. As soon as we move in silence the coms. We’ll coordinate off a timer.”

“That seems risky,” Echo pointed out. “I think it’s too early to make our move. We need more recon, more data.” He hesitated. “You know, it’s not too late to turn back-”

“Yes, it is. I’ve already told you, I’ll accept the risks of a solo mission if any of you don’t want to continue.”

“Hmm. You seem pretty eager to go alone.”

If the comment had gotten under his skin, Hunter didn’t let it show.

“I’m just saying, I was bred for these kinds of ops. I have no issue-.”

“Yes, but we have an issue letting you go alone.”

“That's right.” Wrecker said. “Besides, we’re not going to let you have all the fun without us.” 

With that issue settled, the Bad Batch continued to pour over maps and patrol movements and Imperial security measures until the early morning. Echo had fitfully caught a few hours of sleep until the night crept upon them. Then, they suited up and headed out, with Crosshair breaking off from the group when they reached the crest of the ridge. 

The sniper’s voice sounded over the comms. “The east patrol just started their hourly round. They’ll be out of line of sight in-” 

Echo inhaled, filling his lungs with the cold, clean mountain air. It burned terribly. 

“Three.”

Legs tensing beneath him, his boots dug into the ground, seeking traction. 

“Two.”

His mind raced through everything scenario where this went wrong before a wave of utter calm washed over him.

“Bingo”

The four clones took off in a dead sprint, breaking through the treeline and clearing the open stretch to the fence. The sickly yellow light from the sweeping searchlight would track in their path, when Crosshair would call over the comms. 

“Echo stop! Tech break left. Wrecker, to your right.”

Hunter had no issue, of course, and was the first to reach the fence. By the time the other three made it to the fence, his daggers were out of the sheaths. 

“Comms off. Rendezvous point in fifteen minutes. Good luck.” 

“See you on the other side, boss.” Wrecker responded before crouching down and intertwining his hands together to create a purchase. 

Hunter stepped into Wrecker’s hands. In one fluid motion, Wrecker stood and shoved, launching the other clone into the air. Echo was always impressed with just how far Wrecker could throw his brothers. It wasn’t surprising, especially since Wrecker treated it like a competitive sport. 

Hunter cleared the fence by about a foot, landing gently on the balls of his feet. Tech was up next, seeming much more nervous. He timidly stepped into Wreckers hand, and barely had any time to balance before he shot into the air like a rocket. Tech went much further and he landed awkwardly, stumbling for a few steps before standing. He turned and made a rude gesture to Wrecker. 

Echo, knowing to compensate for his metal mass, took a three steps back and nodded to Wrecker. He ran the steps forward and on the last stride, stepped into Wrecker’s cupped hands. He felt himself being pushed upwards, then the sensation of weightlessness. When he came over the opposite side of the fence, he tucked into a three-point roll and returned to a standing. Looking back through the fence, Wrecker gave a silent mock clap before turning and heading into the treeline, out of sight. 

Hunter, Echo, and Tech spared no time in heading to their next objective. They crept along the fence line, trying to stay in the shadows as much as possible until they came to the first building. When they were concealed from the line of sight of the nearest guard tower, Hunter signaled for them to stop. He pressed his gloved hand against the side of the building, before jerking it back as if it were red hot. 

He waved to them to get further back, and just in time. A heartbeat later the door to the building swung open and there was the noise of about a dozen boots crunching the icy snow. 

_ Thank the force for mutations,  _ Echo thought as the sound of boots faded in the distance. 

Hunter had never taken the time to explicitly explain how his mutation worked. But, after working dozens of missions together, Echo felt as if he had a pretty good understanding. Every biological and mechanical creature gave off electrical pulses; Biologics through nerve impulses and mechanical creatures through their circuits. Hunter could sense those electrical signals, naturally giving him the ability to map out entire environments and enemy positions. 

Echo had no idea what the range of Hunter's senses were, but when there was a satisfactory distance between them and the surprise patrol, they continued to work their way across the compound. When a patrol would get too close, Hunter would signal and they would have only moments to dive behind buildings or to press themselves into door frames. 

It was painstakingly slow, especially compared to missions where they would send Wrecker ahead to tear apart anything that stood in their way. 

“Stop.” Hunter whispered as they reached the smallest metal buildings. “This is the communications building.”

Without questioning how Hunter knew, Tech dropped his pack and went to work. With impressive speed, he hard-spliced into a small cable that ran outside the building. Tech soon had complete control of the security camera feed, status of door locks, and comm feeds from the patrols. Echo noted that the route they had taken managed to avoid every single camera, thanks to Hunter. 

“Starting the clock on Phase Two. Now.” Tech whispered, and gave them a thumbs up.

Hunter nodded, and sprinted ahead without waiting to see if Echo was following. As they got closer to the objective, the haunting uneasiness grew once again. However, Echo felt a smidge better knowing that Tech was in his element, watching out for them. 

“There’s our warehouse,” Hunter whispered, pointing to the large, central building. “Two guards are going to pass, then we run for it.”

Echo nodded, pressing against the side of the wall when he heard the warehouse door open around the corner. Two distinct voices broke the silence of the night, speaking in a monotone drone. 

“Sir, sector two is clear.”

“Roger. Moving to sector three.”

Echo tipped his head back, resting it on the cold metal and inhaled sharply. Those voices... he felt dizzy, as if the ground underneath him was no longer stable. 

Those familiar voices. 

His hand shot out, reaching for something, anything, to provide stability until it was found on Hunters forearm. The voices had the same accented lilt to them as his own. It was the voice of a fellow clone, a brother. 

The Bad Batch had run into clones playing Stormtrooper several times while dealing with the Empire, but it never made it easier when their pristine white helmets would turn on Echo with no recognition and begin firing. 

If the voices had any effect on Hunter, he didn’t let it show. When the voices disappeared he stood, knives still at the ready, and made his way to the warehouse door. He tried to open the door, but the LED on the lock was still a mocking red. Echo checked the timer on his HUD. 

_ Two, One- _

The door swung open silently, no alarms or lights. 

“And that's why Tech was the best.” Hunter said before taking a step in. “Eyes up.” 

Echo nodded, placing a hand on his holstered pistol. They slipped into the pitch black warehouse, quietly shutting the door behind them. The first room was actually a long hallway with two sets of doors on either side, and one at the end. That, combined with the eerie green of their HUD night vision, reminded him of a cheesy horror holos, where a monster would be hiding behind the very last door checked. 

Keeping his head on a swivel, Echo looked for any sign of sensors or motion detectors hidden along the walls and floors. But there was nothing, just a long empty hallway. 

Hunter opened the first door to the left, which was an empty storage closet. It was the same for the door on the right. 

“This place is pretty empty for a location holding a highly sensitive case,” Echo muttered, then ran through that sentence again, before moving to catch up to Hunter. 

“Hunter. Something is off.”

Hunter waved his hand dismissively, checking the next two doors. Empty. 

“Hunter!”

“There’s no one in here,” he snapped. “The nearest person is two buildings over. Tech disabled the security systems. It’s fine!”

As much as he tried to suppress it, the panic continued to rise in Echo as they reached the last door. 

_ I have a bad feeling about this.  _

Echo grabbed Hunter’s shoulder, forcing them to face each other. “If the Empire was keeping a genetic key here, where are the guards, where are the technicians?”

“I’m not turning back, not now. We’re so close.”

Echo wanted to scream. He wanted to grab Hunter by his stupid, stubborn head and drag him out of the compound. He wanted to put as much distance between the Empire and the Bad Batch, maybe take Tech’s suggestion and go somewhere tropical. 

Instead, he unholstered his pistol and held it at the ready as Hunter opened the last door. This one led into the main space of the building and was filled with junk. It seemed to be where they stored large mechanical equipment to either be scrapped or repaired. Echo noted some old shield generators and a dozen broken down speeders that had the GAR logo painted to it. 

“There it is!” Hunter exclaimed softly, pointing across the floor to a podium. It had a series of cryo-tubes running to and from the stand. “Watch my six. I’m going to disconnect the case, then we’ll make a run for it.”

Echo stood next to Hunter, back turned, and aimed his pistol at the door, looking for any movement as behind him there was the sound of tubes hissing as they were disconnected. 

“Is it a key?” Echo asked nervously. 

There was a series of snaps, followed by the case opening. 

“Well. Shit.”

Echo had barely recognized the high pitched  _ beep beep beeeep  _ before he was shoved- hard. He stumbled back and had just enough distance to see Hunter slam the case containing a grenade shut.

Curiously, instead of an explosion, there was the bright flash of electrical blue light. The wave of blue washed over the room and immediately pain lanced through Echo’s legs and arm as the mechanical components shorted. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out as he collapsed to the ground. Through hazy vision he watched Hunter fall, clutching at his helmet. 

The next thing Echo registered was that the darkness transformed into fluorescent light. The HUD setting did not change fast enough, leaving Echo blinded. When the spots across his vision subsided, he glanced around to the room to see dozens of Storm Troopers, rifles drawn. At the lead was a Trooper in pristine white armor except for a black pauldron adorning one shoulder. 

Making as small of movements as possible, Echo activated his comm. 

“Does anyone copy me?” he whispered. “Hunter?”

“Echo?” Crosshair responded. “Did the phrase ‘no comms’ not make sense to you?”

“It was a trap.”

“What?” This time, it was the voice of all three Batcher’s speaking together. 

“We’re surrounded. I think Hunter is down.”

“I can’t see in that building. None of the security cameras were working.” Tech said.

“Or they deactivated them on purpose.” Echo said between gritted teeth. “Tech. You’ve been suppressing their alarms, but can you do the opposite?”

“What, set them off?”

“Yes.”

“I can try.” There was a pregnant pause. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” 

“Not really, but get ready.”

Echo’s HUD cleared just as he regained sensation in his legs. His mechanical arm was still frozen at his side, but he could work without it. The first Stormtrooper stepped directly to his left, and he could hear the clone- no, the target- speak. 

“Two targets neutralized. No sign of the other three.”

Echo swung his working arm with all the force he could muster and caught the Trooper behind the knee, causing him to stumble. Using the falling weight as leverage, Echo forced himself to stand. In one fluid motion, he had unclasped the rifle across his back and dug the barrel into the Trooper’s neck. 

His finger rested on the trigger, but he couldn't bring himself to apply just that slightest amount of pressure. Instead, he swung it into the side of the helmet, and the Stormtrooper crumpled. That captured the attention of the other Troopers, who all raised their blasters and aimed directly at Echo. 

Echo didn’t need to pray to the Force, because he had the second best thing in his corner- Tech. Deafening alarm bells sounded throughout the entire compound, and in a move that Echo wasn’t expecting, water began pouring from the ceiling. This building must have been old if it still had a physical sprinkler system. 

The temporary confusion was enough for Echo, who aimed above the Stormtroopers heads and fired a volley of blaster bolts. They scattered for cover, giving him a chance to make a break for Hunter. Not evening assessing Hunter for injuries, Echo just grabbed under his arm and hauled him to his feet. 

Blaster fire ignited the air as they ran, weaving through the junk machinery to try and find cover of their own. It was disorienting, the alarms and the air obscured by water, but they had almost made it to the main door when the black pauldron Trooper stepped in their path, leveling his blaster. Echo shoved Hunter behind half an old shuttle and scrambled to follow. 

“Echo.” Hunter gasped. “I can’t see.”

Echo peeked his head out for a split second, and a red blast streaked past. “What?”

“That EMP, it fucked with my head. I can’t see. Like I normally do.”

Echo cursed. Without Hunter’s extra sense to tell them the position of Troopers, they were flying blind. He noted that Hunter’s knives were nowhere to be seen, so he had drawn his pistol. Not that he could have used it that accurately, because his hands were trembling. Echo didn’t know if it was from the freezing water or from the sensation of not being able to see as he normally would. 

“It’s okay, we just need to regroup with Tech.” Echo said. “Follow me.”

Hunter, obviously uneasy not being in the lead, readjusted his grip on the pistol. Echo swung out first, firing at the Troopers in their path. It was difficult, keeping balance with one fully functioning arm, but he didn’t exactly have time to be choosy. 

“Go!” Echo yelled over the alarms and they sprinted towards their one exit. 

When they were only a few meters from the door, Echo watched as it began to slowly close. Tech had bought them as much time as he could manage, but their luck had run out. Hunter was struggling to keep up and had begun to trail behind. He must have been much worse off then Echo had realized. 

Echo surged forward and when he reached the door, braced against either side in an attempt to slow it’s closing. There thankfully wasn’t much force behind the door’s old hydraulics, but he couldn’t hold that position forever. 

“Come on Hunter!” He screamed as the Stormtroopers advanced. “Just a little-” 

In a flash of white and black, the Pauldron’d Trooper tackled Hunter from behind, sending them both sprawling on the water logged floor. Hunter didn’t have enough time to take a defensive position, and was easily pinned on his back. However, he managed to shift his weight just a fraction, enough to jam his knee up into the Troopers side. Echo knew from experience that Hunter threw one hell of a punch, sometimes worse that Wrecker. The Trooper didn’t budge. 

In retaliation, the Trooper grabbed Hunter’s right arm and twisted it painfully, slamming it onto the ground with a sickening crunch. Echo could hear his muffled scream. 

Echo realized he had a choice to make. He could let the door shut behind him and try to fire his rifle in an attempt to help Hunter. It was no guarantee that he would hit his intended target, especially with his mechanical arm malfunctioning. Then they would both be trapped with dozens of Troopers with no exit. But at least they would be together. 

The second option was something Echo wouldn’t even entertain the notion of. 

Right as he was about to let the doors shut, Hunter turned his head so his helmet faced directly at Echo. Echo’s own helmet's private comm frequency chirped on. 

“Echo.” Hunter’s horace voice came through clearly. “Run.”

Even when blaster fire began to streak towards him, Echo remained in place. 

“That’s an order soldier!” Hunter’s voice hitched in pain as the Trooper twisted his arm once again, and drove his knee directly into Hunter’s back. 

The crunch of bone breaking was enough to snap Echo back to reality. He rolled to the opposite side of the door and let it slam shut. He looked at the cold steel, breathing heavily and flinched as blaster fire hit from the other side. Then, the gravity of the situation consumed him. 

_ I need to get Tech. I need to get Wrecker. We need to get out of here.  _

That was enough of a plan for Echo. He ran back down the hallway, bursting out of the warehouse. The sub-zero temperature instantly froze the water that coated his armor, but the amount of adrenaline coursing through his veins didn’t allow him to process just how deep the freeze ran. 

“CROSSHAIR!” Echo yelled into his comm. He looked to his left and saw a patrol of about two dozen Strormtroopers running in his direction. A searchlight washed over him. “I need cover fire!”

“Bloody hell, the entire compound is on you!”

“They’re brothers, don’t kill them!”

“You're making this rather difficult.”

There was the sound of a singular blaster bolt, and the search light which illuminated him shattered. 

Echo rounded the corner to the communications building. There were three troopers who had just come from the building, their weapons not yet drawn. He took their surprise to his advantage, kicking one in the chest plate hard enough to make it splinter. He grabbed the falling body and pushed it into the second, sending them both to the ground. The third was quick work, a quick jab to the exposed sliver of neck under the helmet followed by slamming their head into the side of the building. 

He found Tech jamming the last of his equipment into his pack.

“Echo! What is-”

“No time.” He grabbed Tech’s hand and hauled him to his feet. “We gotta go. Wrecker, where are you?”

There was no response, but Echo trusted Wrecker to fall back on his one basic instinct. Follow the plan. 

Echo and Tech weaved through blaster fire and buildings, the alarms still ringing loudly into the night. Echo spotted the northwest guard tower on the opposite side of the fence. He could see the two guards manning it point their rifles at the two clones, yelling something which Echo couldn’t even process.

Suddenly, two blaster rounds tore through the two Troopers, causing them to drop. Echo just prayed Crosshair had aimed to disable, not kill. 

“Wrecker!” he screamed again. 

A large shape emerged from the shadows of the forest. Wrecker waved before strolling up the exposed guard tower, grabbing one of four legs which acted as a base. He tore it from the cold, frozen ground. The guard tower creaked and Wrecker pushed it forward. After a few effortless shoves, it fell and slammed down onto the fence. The fence was crushed into a managed mess of metal. 

“That was your escape plan Wrecker?” Crosshair scoffed. “This was supposed to be a ‘stealth mission’. Did you not comprehend that?”

“The fence is gone, ain’t it?”

Blocking out their bickering, Echo, who was still furiously gripping Tech’s hand, lept through the debris. When they reached the powered snow of the opposite side, Tech ripped out of Echo’s grip. 

“Echo, are you okay?” Tech asked. 

“We need to get back to the ship, now,” he panted, and Wrecker joined their sprint.

“I’ll slow them down.” Crosshair reassured. 

The group of three made it to the treeline, but Echo screeched to a halt just long enough to look back at the compound. It was a mass of activity, Troopers rushing to the front gate and alarms at full volume. Standing in the glow of a searchlight was the black pauldroned leader, a streak of red painting his white armor. He seemed to be staring directly at Echo.

Tearing his eyes away, Echo continued to run, deeper into the forest. Even when the adrenaline began to crash and the pain of his malfunctioning legs, his ruined arm, his  _ splitting headache,  _ were all fully realized, he forced his body to comply to run. By the time they reached their ship, Echo knew, logically, it had to have taken at least half an hour to get there but it felt like mere seconds. 

The door to the ship hissed opened to Crosshair, helmet off and eyes wide. 

“What the hell was that!” he exclaimed. “Echo, you’re bleeding!” 

Echo looked down to his breastplate and at the blood oozing from where it met the right shoulder amor. He wasn’t sure if it was from the blood or the adrenaline crash, but his body chose that moment to collapse. Thankfully, Wrecker grabbed him, handling him rather gently as they climbed onto the ship. Echo was laid gently on the ground and his helmet tugged off. Echo stared up to three faces etched with concern. 

“Echo, where's Hunter?” Tech asked gently. “Is he meeting us here? Do we need to extract him from location B?” 

Echo couldn’t respond. 

“Echo, where is he?” Crosshair said this time, much more forcefully. 

Echo looked around wildly. “They knew we were coming. They knew we were fucking coming.”

“Echo.” Wrecker said, sounding confused. Then, his voice turned unbelievably soft. “Is he-?”

“Worse. The Empire has him.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chefs kiss* enjoy my garbage  
> But really, thank you for the comments and kudos!


	3. Rabbit Heart

“Tell me when you feel a pinch and rate the pain on a scale from 1 to 5. Be honest because these calibrations are very delicate. Got it?” The very distant voice paused. “Echo? Echo, can you hear me?”

Echo could, in fact, hear the voice but chose to ignore it. It was too faint, too difficult to focus on. Besides, his attention was fixated on the planet's surface. Their ship was settled low in the atmosphere, giving Echo a perfect view of the large storm that had formed on the surface.

At the moment, the eye of the storm was passing over the mountain range and the swirling vortex of grey clouds extended out for miles. It was exactly where, just twenty short hours before, the Bad Batch had made their hasty retreat with one less member in tow. Echo guessed that within the next half hour the storm would completely envelop the dense forest and with it, the compound. 

“Echo? Blink twice if you can hear me.”

Echo  _ could  _ hear the voice and was about to respond. But then he began to wonder if Hunter was okay down there in only his blacks and armor. The surface wind speeds must have picked up and caused the temperature to plummet. Hunter’s blacks were probably soaked through from the sprinklers, so being outside for even a minute would kill him. 

If he was even still alive. 

“Sorry about this.” 

There was a jab of metal into his right thigh, bringing Echo into the moment. He looked over to Tech crouched next to his mechanical right leg, which was in complete disarray. The main access panel had been removed, exposing the complex circuitry. Wires were hanging out, jumbled together and some of them half spliced. 

“Ow! What the hell was that?” Echo yelped. 

“Sorry.” Tech said, holding up a small screwdriver. He hadn’t jammed it hard enough into Echo’s scarred thigh to break skin or draw blood, but it did leave a small divot. “You seemed to be…”

“Thinking?” Echo offered. 

“Dissociating.” 

“I was just lost in thought,” he said, defensively. 

“Whatever you want to call it.” Tech said. “But I was saying that calibrating nerve sensors is very delicate and I need your input. Unless you want it to feel like you’re stepping on broken glass.”

Echo huffed and nodded his head before slumping down on the couch. He propped his leg up to allow Tech easier access and tried to relax. His body- both the mechanical and flesh parts- felt like one giant bruise. He wasn’t sure if he could recognize something as insignificant as a ‘pinch’ right now. 

His mechanical arm had to be completely removed from the socket. According to Tech, it took the brunt of the EMP blast and was going to have to be completely overhauled. He had gotten lucky that his legs sustained minor damage, only needing to be re-calibrated and a few fried wires replaced. 

If only his human side had been as durable as the mechanical. Echo had been so high on adrenaline that he hadn’t even noticed sustaining two blaster wounds- one that went clean through his right shoulder and the other grazing his left thigh. Crosshair had wrapped the wounds with plenty of bacta and offered painkillers, which Echo gladly accepted. 

Tech had attempted to sedate him when they had returned to the ship, worried about the psychical and psychological stress of removing Echo’s mechanical arm. Echo had protested, but Tech still tried to jam the needle into his neck. It had taken both Wrecker and Crosshair to stop Echo from breaking Tech’s arm. 

Echo didn’t have time to be  _ injured _ . He didn’t have time to  _ rest _ . And above all, he didn’t have time to be  _ weak.  _ What he needed was to be fixed, and fast. 

Nevertheless, he did feel a small pinch. “That was a one.”

“Are you positive?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you feel it?”

“In the heel.”

They continued that same back-and-forth, working up the leg until Echo began to feel very irritated at the small pinches and prods. 

“How much longer is this going to take!” Echo exclaimed, much louder than he had intended to. 

The door to the cockpit opened and Crosshair walked out, looking exhausted. He still hadn’t changed out of his armor or removed the rifle from his back. Echo immediately tried to stand but when he put a slight weight on the half assembled leg, a bolt of pain shot up his calf. 

Tech shouted and jabbed him with the screwdriver again. “Don't move!”

Echo fell back onto the couch with a groan. 

“How’s the patient, Doctor?” Crosshair asked, his voice devoid of it’s normal snarkiness.

“Being rather impatient at the moment.” Tech replied. “He doesn’t seem to understand that this is a  _ delicate  _ process.”

Echo ignored the pointed comment. “Anything on the scanners?”

“No.” The sniper’s tight scowl lessened when he saw Echo’s crestfallen expression. “Probably because that storm on the surface is picking up. With any luck, it’ll ground any shuttles for at least two days. So if they’re planning on moving him, it won’t be anytime soon.”

Echo scrubbed a hand across his face. “If they move him, it’s over. We have to get back into that compound.”

“Good luck with that.” Tech scoffed and resumed tinkering, tightening a nerve receptor. 

“Four! Four!” Echo yelped as he felt a sensation more akin to a burn. 

“Sorry.” Tech said and the pain subsided. “But we’re two men down, and I don’t think we could attempt a second breach. Especially after the first took so long to plan.”

“I don’t think we could even land the ship right now, not with that storm.” Crosshair added. “Besides...”

“What?” Echo demanded.

“I think it’s clear that the only reason we got in the first time was because they let us.”

“They knew we were coming.” Tech agreed. 

“Echo, you said so yourself. They knew there were five of us, and the fact they used an EMP when targeting you. This was all very premeditated.” Crosshair said. 

“None of that changes the fact that they have Hunter.” Echo said. 

“But it proves that the Empire wanted to capture, not kill.” Tech said. “Hunter should be alright.” 

“For now.” Wrecker’s booming voice caused Echo to jump. 

Echo hadn’t noticed the large Clone enter the common area, and honestly wasn’t expecting to see him out of his room. When the remains of the Bad Batch joined together on the ship, Echo spoke of what happened inside the Warehouse. As soon as he was finished, Wrecker drove his fist through the dining table and stormed off as much as the tiny ship allowed. 

The room fell silent at the dark tone of Wrecker's voice. It was obvious that he wasn’t taking Hunter’s absence well. 

“Once the storm clears, they’ll start sending transmissions to their command. We’ll intercept them and figure out our next move.” Tech said in a thinly veiled attempt to comfort. 

“And if it doesn’t clear?” Wrecker shouted. “We’re just supposed to stand around, doing nothing?”

“This isn’t nothing, Wrecker.” Tech said. “This is us regrouping and planning.” 

“How ‘bout this for a plan? I blow up the front gates and kill anything that stands in my way.”

“You can't.” Echo said. “Those Stormtroopers are Clones.”

“They’re  _ Regs _ .” Wrecker spat.

Echo gritted his teeth and pushed himself to stand once again, sensors be damned. Tech grabbed his arm, trying to tug him back down. Echo held his ground. 

“Watch your mouth. Those are our brothers!”

“I only have three brothers! And one of them is gone, thanks to you.”

Echo’s anger and frustration boiled over and he swung his fist outwards. He wasn’t aiming for anything in particular, but his fist collided with the bulkhead. Pain raced up his only functioning limb, but it didn’t matter. What was one more bruise, one more broken bone?

“You think I wanted to leave him?!” Echo screamed. “I know what it’s like to be left behind!”

He fell back onto the couch and buried his face in his hands. The grief was warping into pure turmoil, which felt as if someone was driving a knife into his chest. Tears began to form in Echo’s eyes, but it would be a cold day in hell before he showed the rest of the Batch how truly weak he was. 

“I’m sorry.” Wrecker said softly. “ ‘didn’t mean it.”

“I know.” Echo replied in an equally remorseful tone. “But you’re right. It is my fault.”

Before anything else could be said, there was a rapid beeping in the cockpit. Crosshair turned and sprinted to the adjacent room with Tech right on his heels. 

“Scanners are detecting a ship dropping out of hyperspace,” Tech called out.

Echo looked down at the wires dangling from his leg. “Tech, aren’t you forgetting something?” There was no reply, so he looked over to Wrecker. “A little help, buddy?”

Wrecker nodded and helped Echo to his feet. He had to support most of his weight using Wrecker, clinging onto his shoulder with his remaining arm. Echo limped into the cockpit just in time to see the ship come out of hyperspace. The sight made his stomach plummet. 

“Is that?” Tech ask shakily. 

“A new Imperial Destroyer?” Crosshair said. “Yup.”

Echo released his grip on Wrecker and dropped into the co-pilot seat. His hand was ready at the controls. “Is that ship going to be able to detect us?”

“We’re low enough in the atmosphere that they should have a hard time picking us up.” Crosshair said. “At least on their short-range scanners.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Tech said. “Once this storm passes, they’ll be able to get a clear read on our signature.”

“Look at the size of those cannons!” Wrecker sounded awestruck.

“Don’t compliment them too much. We might be on the receiving end of those pretty soon.” Echo said. “It doesn’t make any sense! Why send a new Destroyer to such a remote planet? Even after a failed infiltration, they know there’s only four of us.”

“Something else is up,” Crosshair said. “We need to get out of here.”

“Out of the atmosphere?” Wrecker asked. 

“Out of the system.”

“No!” Tech, Wrecker, and Echo exclaimed at the same time. 

“We’re not leaving Hunter.” Echo said. 

“We won’t do much good to him blown to pieces either.”

Tech suddenly reached over Echo to a small console. “There’s a communication line open from the Compound to the Destroyer.”

“That was quick.” Echo said, “Can we listen in?”

“We can. But-”

“I hate ‘buts’.” Wrecker complained.

“But.” Tech continued. “As soon as they realize we’re listening in, it’ll be like painting a huge target on our backs.”

“It’s worth a shot.” Crosshair said. “Any information is better than none.”

“And if they’re just exchanging grocery lists?” Echo said. “Then we would have given our position away for nothing.”

“That’s just a chance we’ll have to take.”

“Are you willing to bet Hunter’s life on that?”

Crosshair looked Echo dead in the eye. “Yes.”

Echo knew that Crosshair was right, but that didn’t make it any easier. 

“How long can we stay undetected?” Echo sighed. 

“Three minutes, tops,” Tech said. 

“Make it five.” Echo replied. “Then we run.”

They all nodded in agreement, although Wrecker still seemed reluctant. 

“Ready?” Tech asked before turning the dials on the console until a warbled conversation broadcasted into the cockpit. 

“ - is going to be impossible to get a shuttle off the ground in this storm.”

“Captain Stroud, does the Empire pay you by the excuse?”

“No, sir.”

“Really? Well, first you send me a report detailing how you were only able to capture one of the defective clones. And now you can’t even deliver it to my ship!”

The first voice, this Captain Stroud, sounded very frustrated but still carried an edge of fear. The second voice was much more harsh and carried a posh Coruscant accent. It was clear that he was the ranking officer, whatever his position was. 

“Agent Grimbol, I assure you that the other Clones will be captured soon-”

“I have no more time to waste on you or your assurances.” This Agent Grimbol snarled. “The only thing I expect from you is to return my Commander, who I generously lent to you for this mission, and with him the prisoner.” 

Echo turned to Crosshair and mouthed the word  _ Agent _ ? Crosshair shrugged, seeming to be just as confused as Echo was. He had never heard the designation of ‘Agent’ used for an Imperial rank. 

“Yes, sir.” Captain Stroud finally said. 

“I want them onboard the  _ Contrivance  _ within the hour, storm be damned.” There was a long, static filled pause. “Captain Stroud, you wouldn't happen to be using any type of encryption equipment at this moment?”

“Uh oh,” Tech said. “Times up!”

“Just the standard equipment, sir.” She replied. “Why do you ask?”

“I have a feeling some very nosy creatures are listening in on us.” 

“You said five minutes!” shouted Echo, his hand flying across the console. Working with one less than he was used to didn't stop him from getting the thrusters online in record time. “That was not five minutes!”

“This guy is good,” Tech sounded almost impressed as he hopped in his own chair. 

“Well, at least we have a name and a ship,” Crosshair said, sliding into the pilots seat. “That's a start. Now let's get the hell out of here.”

“Incoming!” Wrecker shouted just in time for Crosshair to jerk the wheel right. 

A red bolt from the Destroyer cannon streaked past the ship as it banked to the right. Echo watched the bolt come within a meter of the wing and pass with so much force he doubted that their shields could withstand more than one hit. He forced himself away from that train of thought, instead working on entering hyperspace coordinates into the jumpdrive. The ship lurched as it broke from orbit and barreled towards the empty black of space. Echo gave one last glance at the Destroyer, which had begun to turn, then down to the frozen planet before jumped into hyperspace. 

_ We’ll find you Hunter. I promise.  _

\---

If someone asked Hunter to rank the five worst days of his life, he would have the answer for them on the spot. He kept a running list to remind himself that things could always get worse. And they usually did. 

At a very solid number one, which would be almost impossible to top, was the day the Bad Batch received Order 66. Command had wanted them to join in the hunt for any remaining Jedi traitors, who were to be put down for their betrayal. At first Hunter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He didn’t work with Jedi that often, but there was no way they would betray the Republic. His opinion quickly changed when the tiny chip ingrained in his brain activated, because good soldiers followed orders. 

The second worst day was from when he was much younger, still on Kamino. He had failed his last conditioning test and been deemed too ‘aggressive’ and ‘unstable’. Nobody had to explain to him what that meant. He knew he was to be culled but didn’t even bother to fight as he was brought to an operating room. Hunter could remember so vividly the numb sensation that overtook his body as he was strapped to a cold medical table and a needle stuck into his vein. The doctor had their thumb on the plunger, moments from pushing a lethal dose of drugs, when a Marshall Commander had burst into the room. 

But Hunter was flexible on that ranking- he could always find himself much closer to death. 

Worst days three, four, and five were interchangeable depending on which of the Batchers were getting on his nerves the most. 

There was the time Tech had accidentally meggered a live circuit, sending 220 volts of electricity straight through his body and stopping his heart. Hunter had held his lifeless, smoking body and screamed for someone to grab the AED. 

Then, the time they had to free climb a cliff to get to their next objective. Crosshair had accidentally grabbed a loose perch and fell like a stone directly into the raging river below. His body disappeared within seconds under white rapids and rocks. Hunter had ordered the group to abandon their mission and instead spent the day searching for their missing brother. It was only by dumb luck they found his body miles down river, caught on the bank, half drowned and internally bleeding. 

And, of course, his personal favorite for how many times the Bad Batch could cheat death. Wrecker had gotten himself locked in a room with a live bomb, which by all rights should have detonated, if not for one faulty blasting cap. 

On all of those days, a debilitating fear coursed through his body and the question ‘ _ Is this how I lose one of them? _ ’ through his mind. 

Now, as Hunter started to come to consciousness, he had a feeling that today was going to make the list. The obvious indication was that his wrists were bound and raised over his head. The manacles were connected to a chain anchored to the ceiling and forced his body into a standing position. His bare feet were touching a solid surface that wasn’t the floor. It was some sort of platform that shifted as he swayed ever so slightly. Nevertheless, Hunter was thankful that his full weight didn’t rest on his arms because judging by the pain in his right shoulder, it was dislocated. Then there was the fact he was only dressed in the bottom half of his blacks. 

Glancing around, he began to take stock of his surroundings. The room was small, plain, and windowless, which was never a good sign. When he tried to look up, the intense fluorescent lights caused his headache to intensify and the room to spin. 

“I was promised five, Commander! And what do you deliver to me? Just one.”

“Sir-”

“Save the excuses, I’ve heard them all from that useless Captain.”

Hunter couldn’t see who was talking, but the first person to speak had a lilt to their voice he recognized to be from the upper class of Coruscant. The second voice was much more familiar.

_ What is another Clone doing here? _ Hunter thought, fighting through the delirium to try and recall his last few memories. 

The job, contracted by Kav’ah, on a planet that had been too cold. The only thing that mattered to Hunter that day was getting inside a warehouse. Echo had been so worried, but he brushed off the concern- he had everything under control. 

That was until he opened the cryo-case to a very live grenade, and then events became a bit more jumbled. 

There had been a flash of blue light followed by an agony Hunter hadn’t felt since Kamino, when the doctors had begun to experiment on the extent of his abilities. Falling to the ground, he clutched at his helmet and prayed that whoever was trying to kill him to hurry up and finish the job. 

Instead, he had been hauled to his feet by Echo. The sound of blaring alarms made his head spin, and he felt the sensation of rain hitting his armor. He was still confused about that part. 

Together, they had ducked for cover from the blaster fire and Hunter tried to determine how many Troopers surrounded them. But as he searched for electromagnetic pulses, it became one static fuzz. He couldn’t  _ see _ past his eyes. Fear caused Hunter’s hands to tremble. He couldn’t recall a time when he couldn’t tell exactly where everyone was, no matter if they were in the next room or half a click away. 

Echo, who was also clearly struggling as well, yelled at him to make a run for the door. That was easier said than done- he was too slow, too weak without his mutation. His vision began to fade and in that moment, he was tackled from behind. Thrown to the wet floor, his helmet slammed into the ground and rattled his skull. 

In that moment of clarity, he looked up to see Echo holding the door, frozen in place. 

“Echo.” He managed to choke out. “Run.”

And that idiot, that stubborn, loyal to a fault idiot, stayed. Hunter knew in his heart that Echo was going to stay because, unlike those damned Regs on the Citadel, Echo would never leave a man behind. Hunter also knew if Echo stayed, there was a very good chance that every member of the Batch would die that night. 

And although Echo had been broken from most of his old Reg habits, Hunter knew that there was one way to get to him, to make him understand the gravity of the situation. 

“That's an  _ order, soldier!”  _

Echo had snapped to, retreating back and letting the doors slam shut. Knowing that he was out of immediate danger on the other side brought a wave of relief, which was broken when his arms were forced behind his back and cuffed. Then, a sharp prick in his neck. 

_ I’m so sorry, boys,  _ had been his last thought before darkness. 

So the Empire had him.  _ Delightful. _

The non-Clone continued to yell, his voice so grating it made Hunter’s head feel like it was about to split in two. “I reviewed the footage, you had at least three of them trapped in the compound!” 

“Sir, as I am sure you are aware, these are not normal clones we're dealing with. I warned you that their capture was going to be extremely difficult. But less so now.”

“And what makes you think that, Commander?”

“We captured their leader.”

Hunter cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt, but I’m not the leader.”

A man in a grey Imperial uniform walked into his line of sight and fell short of Hunter’s expectations. He was young, with a scowl so deeply etched into his features that it would give Crosshair a run for his money. The Imperial was very slight and the uniform hung off his frame, making it seem like he was playing dress up. Hunter doubted that this man had ever seen combat before, or was even trained for that role. 

“You're not?” the Imperial asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“No, I’m the secretary!” Hunter replied seriously. “If you wanted an appointment, all you had to do was call. The boys are busy this afternoon. They have plans to assassinate the Emperor, but I can fit you in tomorrow. Would nine o’clock work?”

The Imperial’s face hardened and his body tensed as if he was about to strike, but suddenly relaxed. Hunter could see a dangerous glint in his eyes. He could only ever recall seeing someone with that cruel of a look once before. It had been when General Skywalker had returned from ‘dealing’ with Admiral Trench.

The Imperial broke his stare and addressed someone who was still standing in Hunter’s periphery. “Leave us, Commander.”

“Yes sir.” The Clone replied and walked to the door. 

Hunter caught sight of white Stormtrooper armor, decorated only with a black pauldron. 

“Good seeing you, brother!” Hunter called out as the doors shut. “Gotta love family reunions.”

“I am glad that you are finally awake. We have much to discuss.” The Imperial responded in a clipped tone. “I am Agent Grimbol, from the Internal Security Bureau.”

“Never heard of it.”

“We are a rather new department. But, deemed necessary by the Emperor himself for the advancement of our glorious new empire.”

“Good for you.”

Agent Grimbol glared. “Our job is to identify any threats to the safety and security of the Empire, and to snuff out anything that stands in our path. For example, a band of renegade Clones destroying Imperial property and killing personal.” 

“I’m flattered that you thought of us.” 

“Please, you’re a mere blimp on the radar of the Empire. But, if we allow too many small inconveniences, the true picture becomes obscured.” 

“So you're going to hunt down my crew, like you did the Jedi?”

“That is one option.”

“And the other?”

Agent Grimbol slowly nodded and began to pace. He had a small smirk curled on the corner of his lip.  _ So he’s about to make his play,  _ Hunter thought.  _ That was fast.  _

“Well, you are property of the Empire.”

Hunter gave a harsh laugh. “And just how do you figure that?” 

“You were property of the Republic, which had been transformed into something stronger, something greater, thanks in part to your kind. The Clone Army was most helpful-.”

“They were forced!” Hunter snarled. “I know about the chips. My own brother had to dig it from my skull as I tried to kill him!” 

“Hm, a little touchy on the subject?”

“A bit. I had a bald spot for a while.”

Grimbol chuckled and continued his pacing. With every lap he took, he inched closer to Hunter. Trying to test the limits of the restraints, Hunter tried to shift his weight from foot to foot. The platform he stood on swayed. He then realized that it wasn’t so much of a platform as it was a box that had been pushed under his legs. 

A plan began to form in Hunter’s mind but he was only going to have one chance at it. He also knew it was going to hurt like hell, but when did that ever stop him? 

“I’m assuming that you don’t want to see your men dead, so here are your choices. I’ll allow you to make contact with your crew to order them to surrender. You will then go through some,” Grimbol paused, contemplating his wording, “Reconditioning. In order to serve your Empire.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You won't. I mean, you will in the beginning. Of this I am quite certain. It will result in a few rather unfortunate, painful days, but you will concede. I will make certain of it.”

“Oh, go to hell!”

“Is that your final answer?” Grimbol took another step forward.

_ Just a little further,  _ Hunter though, tensing his muscles in anticipation.  _ I’m looking forward to killing you.  _

“You think I’m scared?” Hunter laughed. “I’ve gone against Sith lords which made you look like an infant! You believe tying me up and throwing a few threats around is going to get me to betray my brothers?” Hunter physically spat at the Imperial. “You know  _ nothing  _ of loyalty.” 

“I won’t say that I’m surprised-” Grimbol began and took one last step. 

Hunter took a deep breath and struck. He grabbed the chain, pulling himself up and swung forward. He had planned to lash out with his legs and get them hooked around the Imperial’s scrawny neck. After which he was going to twist his body, breaking said scrawny neck. Consequences be damned- killing Grimbol would at least slow down their search for the rest of the Batch. 

Hunter had killed that way before and was convinced his plan would work until the moment his feet left the box. Grimbol ducked under and out of the way, kicking the box across the room in the process. So when Hunter swung back, his feet hovered a few inches off the ground. 

He cursed as his hands slipped from their grip on the chain. Suddenly all his weight was supported by his arms, and he felt his right arm tear from the socket. He bit his lip to stop a scream from escaping- there was no way he was going to give this bastard the satisfaction. 

Grimbol’s hand shot up, catching Hunter under the throat. The Agent only had to push up slightly, using Hunter’s own weight against him to cut off his airway. 

“So you want to do this the hard way?” Grimbol sighed. “And here I was hoping you would be sensible. No bother- I do enjoy a challenge.” 

Realizing he had lost this battle, Hunter closed his eyes and stopped struggling. His last coherent thought before the undertow of unconsciousness took hold was that this was probably the sixth worst day of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank ya'll so much for all the comments! It's super motivating and I'm glad to see people are enjoying what I kind of started as a side project to get me through quarantine. <3
> 
> That being said, this chapter has a few references to Order 66, because I think once I'm done with this story, I'm going to write a "prequel" of what happened when they received the order. Before Mr. Filoni comes into my home and destroys all my headcannons. 
> 
> Buckle up cause the next chapter is going to be kind of intense. See ya'll next week.


	4. No Choir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the updated tags!

Devoid of night time patrons and irritating music, Ka’vah’s bar was a starkly different place. It felt smaller, almost cozy, with natural light streaming down from skylights and the smell of caff heavy in the air. Echo almost did a double-take as he entered the bar to make sure they hadn’t wandered into some cafe by mistake. Then he spotted the large Torgruta sitting at the bar, scrolling through her datapad and idly stirring the mug of caff. 

“We’re not open!” Ka’vah called out when the door shut behind them. “Come back after dark.”

“We’re not here for drinks,” Echo replied.

Ka’vah swiveled her barstool around to face the group, a cheeky smile spreading across her face. She had traded in her usual lavish costume for a casual look of grey slacks, a white blouse, and wire rimmed glasses. It was a much more ‘senate secretary’ look than ‘criminal broker’, but she still wore it confidently. What was most surprising to Echo was the only gold jewelry he could see adorn her were small hoop earrings. 

“You’re back already?” She asked, sounding genuinely surprised. 

Her dark eyes darted to Wrecker and she was about to make a flirty comment at his expense when the words caught in her throat. 

She had operated in the criminal underbelly of the outer rims long enough to know when to be concerned about her safety. A spice runner waving a blaster in her face? No chance they pulled the trigger unless they wanted to be out a broker. A Bounty Hunter after her because of a contract? Easy fix, just place a bounty on their employer for twice the price of her own. 

But when four ex-Republic super-soldiers walked into her bar in broad daylight, armored and armed? It sounded like the setup for a bad joke, but Ka’vah found it troubling to say the least. Three of the Clones, with the exception of Wrecker, removed their helmets. They tried to wear neutral expressions but did so like cheap masks. She could see right through to the resentment and anger they tried so hard to hide. 

“Not expecting to see us alive?” Crosshair retorted. 

“What? No? I mean, it’s only been two weeks since the last job.” She stood to address the group. “I assumed you boys would take a vacation. I would suggest somewhere tropical- you’re looking rather pale.” 

“We’re here because of that job,” Echo said bluntly. “Who hired you to negotiate the contract?” 

Ka’vah laughed sweetly. “Echo, darling, you know I have a very strict confidentiality policy. What kind of middle-woman would I be if I just went around giving out names?”

“I’m not sure. Depends on who you decide to sell out.”

She raised an eyebrow, curiosity turning to confusion. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say that is an accusation.” 

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear then. Who hired you to sell us out?”

“Okay. Just what the hell is going on?” Ka’vah demanded. “Is this about the cryo-case?” 

Echo crossed his arms, as if daring her to continue. 

“Let me guess, it wasn’t a genetic key? And now you’re mad at me. Like I said-.”

“The case was a decoy,” Tech interrupted. “The whole job was a setup. The Empire knew we were coming.”

Ka’vah stared at the group, her gaze moving from Tech to Crosshair to Echo to Wrecker. She then walked around to the opposite side of the bar and reached under the countertop. Both Crosshair and Wrecker tensed but instead of a weapon, she withdrew four tall glasses before uncorking a crystal decanter. 

“In that case, you all could probably use a drink.” 

“Is this a joke to you?” Crosshair snarled. 

“Depends on the punchline.” 

Crosshair stalked forward, practically bristling in anger. Echo reached forward and grabbed his shoulder to try and stop him, but the sniper wrenched from his grip. 

“So what exactly were we worth? Did the Empire pay you in credits or did they offer to look the other way next time you got in trouble? Wait. I’ve got it. They shook a shiny necklace in your face and that's all it took for you to sell out.” 

Echo buried his face in his palm, thinking back to the conversation that took place not five minutes before they entered Ka’vah’s bar.

_ “Okay, so we’re all clear. We’re not going to be confrontational. We don’t know her level of involvement,” Echo had said. “We’ll just calmly ask her what she knows.” _

Echo now watched as the Torgruta drew a sharp breath and stood to her full, terrifying height. Now she had a good foot and a half on Crosshair, not to mention twice the muscle mass. Her lips parted into a snarl and she bared her large fangs which actually caused Echo to take an involuntary step backwards.

“You better have a damn good reason for throwing around those types of accusations.” Ka’vah’s voice was ice cold. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten who I am, what I do to those who cross me?” 

“Ka’vah. They have Hunter.”

Everyone turned to Wrecker, who had spoken so softly that it seemed impossible for it to have come from him. 

“Who? The Empire?”

“Yes.”

“The Empire has Hunter?” She repeated, obviously in disbelief. 

Wrecker nodded and removed his helmet to look her directly in the eyes. 

“We need your help. Please.”

The Torgruta had never seen Wrecker this down before. No matter what was happening to him- from losing all his credits in Sabacc or getting his senses rattled during a fight or even getting a live grenade thrown at him- he was always jovile.

“You’re going to need to start from the beginning. I’ll put a pot on.” 

...

By the next hour, the group had settled in the same booth from two weeks earlier. Except this time the table was crowded with dark caff and sweet pastries at Ka’vah’s request. Echo’s drink remained untouched and had long since gone cold. He had given hundreds of after-action reports over the course of the war, but this time felt so different. Once he started, the words flowed from him like water out of a broken dam. 

“They were led by a higher ranking Trooper with a black shoulder pauldron. A Commander at the very least, maybe higher,” Echo explained. “There was something about him- the way the trap was set and how he took Hunter down. It was familiar somehow. I can’t really explain it.” 

Ka’vah frowned and looked as if she was going to interrupt but seemed to stop herself. So he continued until he reached Hunter's last order. As much as he tried to fight it, he felt his voice beginning to break. Thankfully, Tech had noticed Echo struggling and gently took over the story.

“He said his name was Grimbol,” Tech said. “And that he was an ‘Agent’. I haven’t heard that used as a designator before.” 

“He could be an Imperial Guard,” Crosshair suggested. 

“Not likely,” Ka’vah said. “What did you say the ship’s name was?”

“The  _ Contrivance,  _ and it looked like a brand new design.”

“Never seen cannons that big before,” Wrecker added, before shoving another pink pastry into his mouth. 

“Whatever encryption equipment the ship utilizes is unlike anything I’ve encountered before,” Tech continued. “I was well hidden in the bandwidth and not only did they pick me out, but then targeted and fired on our ship. All in less than a minute.” 

“Not to mention the fact that they’re specifically targeting us. I mean, they know about our mutations and obviously who our contact in the criminal network is.” Echo said. “I’m assuming that he’s in an Intelligence unit.”

“You would be right about that.” Ka’vah said, 

“So you know who he is then?” Tech said. 

She suddenly reached across the table and grabbed Wrecker’s hand, squeezing it tight. He looked at her, stunned. 

“This is going to be hard for you all to hear, and I am so sorry, but you need to cut your losses and leave. Now. Go to the most remote planet in the galaxy then find one further away.”

Of all the reactions Echo envisioned Ka’vah having, telling them to run and hide was not one of them. This was the same Torgruta that he had once seen get stabbed with a vibro-blade, throw the asalint through a window, take three shots, and down a chaser before getting medical attention. 

“What’d you mean?” Wrecker exclaimed, trying to jerk his hand away but Ka’vah’s grip was stronger. 

“I’ve heard of these ‘Agents’ before. They’re ruthlessly efficient in pursuing their targets and have almost every Imperial resource at their disposal.”

“So?” Wrecker said. “We infiltrated the Techno-Union headquarters and survived.” 

“I don’t think you understand,” she gritted her teeth. “I know people with triple my resources get grabbed in the middle of the night and have their entire organization dismantled by the next day.”

“Wreck is right.” Crosshair said, “We’re not afraid.”

“Well I am,” Ka’vah snapped, letting go of Wrecker. “I’m sorry but if I get involved it puts a pretty big target on my back. I’ve worked too hard to build my organization and-,” her gaze turned to the floor. “I don’t want to disappear.” 

“You’re already involved,” Crosshair retorted. “Why do you think that they used you to broker the deal? It would have been suspicious if someone came to us directly, so they went through you instead. The Empire already knows about your whole operation.” 

“Let us help you,” Echo pleaded. “If we can get Hunter back-.”

“It’s impossible. Hunter is dead.”

“They said the same thing about me and if my Captain had lost faith, I would still be in cryo-freeze with tubes stuck in my brain.” 

“I’m not putting everything at risk for your suicide mission,” she said harshly. 

“Hunter’s our big brother,” Wrecker said. “We have to try and get him back.”

“Or you could run!”

“I am done running,” Echo declared. “We ran when the Republic fell and we hid and played by the Empire’s rules. Well not anyone. I am sick of watching the galaxy I fought and died for become this…  _ mess. _ ” 

“The Empire defeated the Jedi,” she said bitterly. “How are you four going to make a difference?” 

“I don’t know,” Echo admitted. “But getting Hunter back? It would be a start.” 

The table was silent. Echo was about to give up on her when Ka’vah slammed her fist on the table, causing the mugs to rattle. 

“Damn it, Echo.”

“Is that a yes?” 

She met his gaze and he could see the fear in her eyes. He only hoped that she could see the relief in his own. 

“This Agent is part of an organization called the ISB.”

“Never heard of it,” Tech said. 

“That’s because it’s a new division of secret police. They keep tabs on citizens to make sure everyone has the right level of loyalty and fear.” 

“Right when you think the Empire can’t get any more repulsive,” Crosshair said with disgust. “They always managed to surprise you.” 

“Oh, that’s nothing,” she said. “I heard the name Grimbol once before. Apparently he managed to take over the Spice mining operations on Kessel and turn it into an Imperial operation.” 

“I’m sorry,” Wrecker deadpanned. “He did what?” 

“Think about it, spice mining is the perfect Imperial commodity. It uses non-human slave labor and is incredibly lucrative,” she explained. “So, Agent Grimbol removed the syndicate leaders and put his own loyalists in charge. Now the Empire controls most of the trade from Ryloth to Kessel.” 

“I stand corrected,” Crosshair said. 

“But why come after us?” Wrecker chimed in. 

“Five renegade Clones taking mercenary jobs on the outer rims does seem a little below his paygrade,” Tech said. 

“I don’t have all the answers here,” she sighed. “But the fact this Agent was able to convince one of my contacts to flip doesn’t inspire confidence.” 

“And your contact is?” Tech asked. 

“A Rodian named Nylo. I’ve sourced jobs for him for as long as I’ve been in business,” Ka’vah said. “And that's the problem- he knows about most of my operations. So if it’s not too much trouble, I’ll need you boys to make sure he doesn’t have the chance to divulge that information ever again.” 

“Easy enough,” Wrecker said with a shrug. 

“Don’t jinx yourself,” she warned. “Nylo is paranoid as all hell and isn’t afraid to create collateral damage.”

“Neither am I,” Wrecker said proudly, but then caught his mistake. “I mean not to get away. Because I never run away-.” 

Wrecker stopped rambling when Crosshair elbowed him in the side.

“I’m sending you his information right now,” she said, tapping on her datapad. “He doesn’t know I have his current hideout, so you’ll have surprise on your side.”

“That’s a good change of pace,” Crosshair muttered, then looked to Ka’vah. “Sorry ‘bout earlier, for thinking you sold us out. You’re good people.”

She smiled broadly. “Of course I am. But what type of criminal mastermind would I be if people went around thinking I was decent?”

With nothing else left to discuss, the Bad Batch stood to leave. Ka’vah made her way around the group, shaking their hands. She Echo’s cybernetic hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“What was that saying the Jedi had?” she asked. 

“May the force be with you,” Echo replied, sadly. 

“I don’t put much stock in that mystic stuff, but it's better than nothing,” Ka’vah said, “So may it be with you.” 

Echo gave a curt nod, and she moved on. She pulled Wrecker into a tight hug and kissed his forehead, which she could easily reach. Then, she leaned to his ear and whispered something that caused Wrecker to laugh and nod enthusiastically. Echo, Crosshair, and Tech all exchanged equally disgusted looks. 

After goodbyes were said, they left the bar and walked through the familiar back-streets. 

“So not a total waste of time,” Tech said, breaking a tense silence that had formed. “We just need Nylo to tell us who his ISB contact is, then we can use them to figure out where the  _ Contrivance  _ is.” 

“And if they’ve moved him?” Crosshair said bitterly, “I know we're all thinking it- what if Ka’vah was right? That Hunter is… gone, and we're better off laying low?” 

“He’s not gone,” Wrecker gritted out. 

Crosshair held up his hands defensively. “Okay, but every other lead so far has been a dead end. The ISB is good.”

“Not as good as us.” Wrecker replied. 

“Nylo is as good a lead as any,” Tech said. “What’d you think, Echo?”

“I think I should have taken Ka’vah up on that offer for a drink.” 

“She is a good person, if you ignore the criminal aspect.” Crosshair admitted.

“And she's smart and pretty and likes to blow things up!” Wrecker added enthusiastically. “Basically the perfect woman!”

Both Tech and Crosshair groaned and launched into a light-hearted argument with Wrecker. Teasing would be the more appropriate term, since they kept bringing up the fact he developed a crush on anyone who beat him at arm wrestling.

Echo trailed behind the group, too caught up in his own thoughts to join in. The unrelenting rage he felt towards this Nylo and Agent Grimol and the universe as a whole was starting to wear him down. There was a time where he couldn’t imagine how the Jedi gave into their anger, converting to the dark side when they already held such great power. But now, Echo realized the appeal of giving into the base urge to destroy those who caused him pain. 

\---

Hunter had come to terms with the fact he was going to die in that room. It wasn’t what he had envisioned for himself- he wanted to die of accelerated age on a beach with a drink in hand. Any feelings of fear or resentment had been replaced with annoyance that it was at the hands of the Empire. But, he accepted it and waited for the end. 

It was a slow and agonizing wait. 

The sensation of bleeding out was unique to him. Hunter’s head felt light and tingly while the rest of his body was as heavy as a stone. His muscles went rigid as rigid tremors wracked his body, as if he were cold. Even so, sweat dripped down his body and mixed into the blood which poured from open wounds crossing his back and torso. The sound was the most repulsive part, the droplets of rich red blood hitting the ground with a soft  _ plink, plink, plink _ noise. 

He had been so focused on the noise that he hadn’t even heard the question asked to him by Agent Grimbol. Not that it mattered- he hadn’t answered any questions so far. Tired of waiting, Grimbol gave a nod and the Stormtrooper Commander adjusted his grip on the wickedly sharp vibro-blade. He expertly ran it underneath Hunter’s taught shoulder blade and when the end of the incision was reached, tipped the blade and plunged it into a knot of muscle. 

Hunter assumed that he screamed but had lost his voice hours ago. And there was also the fact he was coming in and out of lucidity with each pass of the blade. 

“This can all end if you just answer my question,” Grimbol sounded as if he had all the time in the world. 

“What was it again?” Hunter rasped. “I’m having a bit of trouble remembering.”

“Where are the other defective Clones?”

“Oh, them? You should start by looking in a black hole. Just jump in one and poke around. They’ll turn up.”

Grimbol shook his head. “Again.”

The Commander picked a new spot at Hunter’s right hip. He started gently, lightly cutting the soft flesh around the hip. Hunter tensed, bracing for what was about to happen. The pressure on the blade increased as it was dragged up his side, connecting to other wounds. When the Commander reached the top of the rib cage, he pushed further down until metal hit bone. Another scream echoed through the room. 

Before this session, Grimbol had been very old-fashioned in conducting his interrogation. He had the Commander beat Hunter until internal bleeding took hold. When Hunter awoke, he could smell the bacta and feel the slight tug to stitches from where a medical team had intervened. The same process repeated over the course of what Hunter assumed was several days. Eventually, the Agent got bored and decided to try something so. So, he brought in a blade for the Commander to use. Grimbol himself hadn’t touched Hunter since the first time he had woken, instead relying on his trusty Commander to take care of dirty work. 

“You sick bastard,” Hunter groaned and could taste copper. 

Grimbol grinned as if he had been paid a compliment.“Just tell me where the other clones are and this stops. I promise.” 

“‘Wasn’t talking to you,” Hunter slurred. “Talking to the piece of shit behind me with the knife. You know, it takes a real sick person to do this to their own brother.”

There was no response from behind him, just the soft pitter of blood. Hunter could imagine the dead, glazed eyes of a Clone with an activated chip. If his words were even registering with the Commander, he gave no indication. 

“I never caught your name but I’m guessing you're not allowed to have those anymore.” Silence. “What unit were you even with? I’m guessing 501st since you hit like a bit-”

There was no finesse to the way the knife was handled this time- it was just buried between his fourth and fifth rib. Grimbol yelled something that Hunter couldn’t even begin to comprehend through the pain. He just hoped that this was the blow that ended his misery. 

But he wasn’t even that lucky. Hunter managed to stay conscious as the Commander was shoved out of the room and Grimbol dragged in an Imperial Medical Team. The three grey-uniformed humans set to work repairing the damage, not seeming the least bit phased at the sight of another being dangling about a pool of blood.

“Please. Don’t.” Hunter whispered as the first strip of bacta was applied. 

Not even a sympathetic glance was spared and he felt a needle jammed into his neck. Hunter felt an involuntary tear slip from his right eye as he surrendered himself to the darkness. He knew that he woke the cycle would continue in never-ending hell. He also had a feeling that the Agent would just keep becoming more and more creative until Hunter finally cracked. 

The only comfort he took was in the fact it was happening to him and not one of his batch. 

\---

Nylo was confident in only three things- himself, his business, and his security system. Everything else existed in a realm of uncertainty, which was unacceptable. So, as he walked down the well-lit street to his lavish uptown apartment, he went through his daily ritual. To others, it was his ‘security precaution checklist’. Nylo was well aware that some of his  _ colleagues  _ thought him to be paranoid or over the top but most of them were now dead. 

First, he removed his datapad from his side-bag and scrolled through all the security feeds from the apartment building. After a few minutes, he began to fast-forwarded through the dull lives of the building's other residents. They all stuck to the same monotonous schedule, never even attempting to achieve variety. The only feed that held his attention was from within his flat and focused on his cat. 

Next, he entered the lobby, returned a greeting from the doorman, and went to his small mailbox. When he opened the door to the cubby, he wasn’t looking for any parcels. Instead, he accessed a keypad and entered the seven digit code to disarm the bomb wired to his apartment’s door frame. 

The Rodian took the lift to the tenth floor. His door differed from the neighbors due to the six deadbolts and a biometric scanner and were all unlocked with practiced haste. Once inside he re-entered the seven digit code on another keypad and the bomb was rearmed. As soon as the green ‘engaged’ light lit, Nylo felt the warm blanket of safety wrap around him. If anyone tried to open that door without first entering the code, an outwardly facing explosive charge would detonate and obliterate anything in the hallway. 

“Putty!” he called out for his cat, “I’m home!” 

He felt along the wall for a lightswitch, although could have swore that he left a lamp on. But he had left in a haste that morning. Imperial contacts weren’t notorious for their good moods, especially when he was late and carrying such vital information. Finding the switch, he illuminated the large loft and revealed a sight that filled Nylo with terror. 

Sitting in his  _ incredibly _ expensive leather recliner was a stranger. At least, Nylo swore he had never seen this man before, but there was still something unsettlingly familiar about his features. The stranger’s angular face was a deep tan and his curly dark hair almost completely covered up metal that protruded from the skin. 

“Nylo, I hope? Because if we got the wrong apartment then this is really embarrassing.” The stranger asked. 

It was such a shock to see someone in his  _ so incredibly  _ expensive chair that it took a second to process that standing behind the recliner was the largest human Nylo had ever seen. And probably the most terrifying. The only thing that subtracted from the image was that Putty was cradled in his arms like a baby and the cat had actually dozed off. 

“How… How did you get in here?!” Nylo exclaimed in disbelief. 

“Oh, that's about to the least of your problems. But, if you have to know,” the man in the recliner explained, “Your camera system took our tech expert two minutes to disable before replacing it with an edited feed. The booby-trap at the door? A classic claymore but it took a bit longer to diffuse. Our demolition man here is easily distracted by tiny animals.” 

“He is very soft,” the large man stated, patting Putty’s head. 

_ Just what type of criminals are they?  _ Nylo thought and in a sudden impulsive act, he reached into his bag and drew a small blaster. 

“Don’t move! I’m calling security-.”

The floor-to-ceiling window that lined the back wall, providing a nice sunset view of the city, suddenly imploded. Glass scattered across the room and a bolt of energy collided with the blaster, tearing it from Nylo’s grip. He jerked his hand back and cradled it across his chest as he looked around wildly for the invisible assailant. 

“Did I forget to mention that we have a sniper settled on the next building over?” the stranger said smugly. “Why don’t you say hi, Cross?”

A red dot of light hit Nylo’s center chest and bobbed up and down in a mock waving motion before it disappeared. 

“What do you want?” Nylo’s voice squeaked. “I’ll give you whatever you want! Credits, art, my cat!”

“We’ll take the cat!” the large man said. 

“Wrecker, no.” 

“Awww.” 

“All we need from you is a name.” 

“Whose name would that be?” Nylo replied cautiously. 

“No one important, just your ISB contact.”

Nylo was positive that all the green coloring drained from his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stuttered. 

“That’s strange, considering you just met with them.” The man suddenly stood. “ Wrecker, maybe you can jog his memory.”

“Sure thing!” Wrecker replied and gently put Putty down on the floor. 

Before Nylo had time to protest, he was grabbed by the back of his jacket and hauled across the room. The broken glass crunched beneath their feet and when they reached the broken window, he was picked up and unceremoniously thrust through the empty frame. Nylo screamed and began to thrash, legs kicking to to try and find any purchase. Then he made the mistake of looking down. The feeling of vertigo overtook his senses and caused his stomach to drop. 

“Stop wiggling!” Wrecker said gleefully, “I have sweaty palms!”

The Rodian instantly stopped moving. 

The stranger poked his head out of the frame. “Anything coming back to you? Maybe arranging a contract on behalf of the Empire with a broker named Ka’vah?”

The Rodian’s head snapped up and realization dawned on him. “Did that bitch send you?”

“Yikes. Wrong answer.” 

“I think I feel my grip slipping.” Wrecker said and began to loosen his hold on the jacket. “Uh oh! Echo, you better get a scraper. It ain’t gonna be pretty when he hits the pavement.” 

“Then you better get one for yourself,” Nylo snarled, “Because if you kill me, you won’t leave this apartment alive.”

“Ooo, am I supposed to be scared of you?” Wrecker laughed. 

The other man- Echo- suddenly frowned and put a hand up to his ear. 

“Wait, repeat that Tech?” Echo said, taking a step away from the window. “What type of signal? Can you stop it?”

“It’s too late,” Nylo exclaimed. “You honestly think you found all my security measures? I haven’t stayed alive in this line of business by playing the amauter game.”

“What does that mean?” Echo said. 

“That all those cameras are for show. The real security precaution is right here,” Nylo tapped his chest, right where his heart was. “You can’t disarm a security device that’s  _ inside  _ of me.” 

“Do I even want to know what that means?” Wrecker said with disgust. 

“It  _ means _ a device is connected to my heart that monitors the rate and my location,” Nylo said smugly. “If my heart rate is raised for too long, the device contacts a private security team. If it stops? Detonates three more bombs hidden in this apartment. Same thing if I leave this room without first entering an authorization code.” 

“Wrecker, bring him back in.” 

Nylo was dropped onto the floor of the apartment hard enough to bruise but at least he wasn’t falling ten stories. After taking a few gasping breaths to ensure he was still alive, Nylo glared at the two men. 

“Wise choice. Now, if you would like to negotiate your terms of surrender, now would be a good time to start groveling-.”

He didn’t have time to finish his monolog because a very large armored fist slammed into his face. 

...

“I don’t think I killed him.” Wrecker said, nuding the blood-covered Rodian with his boot. “And the other bombs didn’t detonate.” 

Echo’s felt a headache begin to creep up. How could they have missed this? Three more bombs, a whole security team on speed dial? Even though they did have to act quickly to corner Nylo, Echo still believed that they had at least managed to cover all their bases. 

“Tech, how long until this security team gets here?” he asked. 

Tech was currently one building over in an empty office, hunched over a set of screens and devices. On top of monitoring all security feeds and communications inside the apartment, he was also fighting Crosshair for more desk space. The sniper had also claimed the desk, insisting he had to use it as a perch. He was currently laid across it, rifle aimed at Nylo's living room, leaving Tech frustrated and very little room to work. 

“From what I can tell, the signal just pinged to the lobby, probably to the building's private security.” Tech paused as a new display appeared on his datapad. “Um, would you like the bad news or the worse news?”

Echo groaned. “Just get it over with.” 

“You’ve got less than sixty seconds until security reaches the door.”

“What’s the bad news then?!”

“That is the bad news. The police have also been notified, which means that Imperial security forces have also been alerted. They’ll all be here in five minutes.” 

“Can one thing just go right? Please?” Echo shouted to no one in particular, “Is that too much to ask?”

Wrecker patted his shoulder. “Feel better?”

“Much.” 

Echo turned his attention to his surroundings, looking around for anything that could be used to their advantage. There wasn’t much, since this idiot had decided to decorate his apartment in a minimalist style. The decor was limited to a too-large bed, gaudy reclining chairs, a table with extremely short legs, and a cat. Even the walls weren’t load-bearing- all the weight rested on two black pillars to give the space an ‘open feel’. 

Suddenly, a plan started to form. 

“Wrecker, do you have repelling gear on you?” Echo asked, circling one of the pillars to ensure it wasn’t just decorative. 

“I don’t have enough cable to make it ten stories,” he replied. “Maybe seven.”

“That’s fine. Tech, if I send you scans of Nylo’s internal security device, how long would it take you to clone the signature?” 

“I don’t know, two minutes?”

“Make it one.” 

Echo took a small scanner from a side pouch and set it to automatic. He then placed it on the Rodians chest. 

“Okay, we need to move quickly-”

There was a heavy knock on the door, followed by a deep and rather gruff voice. 

“Mr. Nylo, it’s security. We received your distress call.” 

“It looks like five security guards, all wearing military grade armor and heavy blasters,” Tech said. “We’re out of time.”

“No. We’ve got this,” Echo said. “This is just an extraction mission, remember that.”

“Yeah, how did that last one go for you?” Crosshair said. 

Echo ignored the jab. “I have a plan. We need to deal with security and get out before the Empire arrives.” 

“With pleasure,” Wrecker said and unstrapped his rifle. 

“Hope you know what you’re doing Sarge,” Crosshair said, not seeming to realize the mistake. 

“So do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, I'm sorry this took so long to upload! The chapter was actually pretty hard for me to write and I ended up having to split it in half. So I guess the good news is that it won't be as long of a wait for the next chapter. This '5 chapter fic' is turning out to be much more of a project than I originally anticipated.
> 
> Once again, thank you so much for all the comments and kudos! 
> 
> (Also, this chapter might be named after a Florence song but I was jamming to Blame by Bastille the entire time I was writing it)


	5. Kiss With A Fist

The door to Nylo’s apartment was kicked in with such a tremendous force the frame splintered. The leader of the security team aimed their weapon through the entryway and readied to shoot at the first thing that moved. Normally, it was their job to ensure the safety of the residents of the entire building, all of whom were extremely wealthy. But when Mr. Nylo moved in three months ago, he began to pay them under the table to respond to his own personal silent alarm- and treat it as the highest priority.

Except the loft appeared to be empty. They took a hesitant step forward, motioning their team to follow and perform a sweep. They made it exactly one step over the threshold because, unknown to them, one building over was an annoyed sniper that had them lined up in a rifle sight. Crosshair squeezed the trigger and they crumbled to the ground.

The four other guards, unable to figure out where the shooter was, surged forward and fanned out to seek cover. As one guard rounded the pillar, Echo lunged from behind it and grabbed the stock of their rifle, wrenching it from their hands.

Echo shot them a cocky grin. “Sorry, didn’t hear you knock.”

Instead of panicking from the disarmament, they immediately threw a hard left punch into his side. Echo heard a crack and the air was driven from his lungs. The guard's gauntlets had to be reinforced, because the blow was heavier than any normal human could deliver. Brushing off the pain, Echo shifted his stance into a defensive stance. When they lunged for another strike, he parried it to the side with his metal forearm and brought his knee into their gut. They doubled over and Echo tried to leverage them to the ground.

Snarling, the guard hooked their arm around Echo’s neck and dragged him down with them. They both sprawled on the ground, arms locked across each other- both desperately trying not to be the one pinned. As soon as the guard saw an opening, they went for it.

What the guard didn’t realize was that the favorite pastime of Clones in the GAR was wrestling. Even outside of regulated training, it wasn’t hard to start a spar, especially in the 501st- so Echo had more practice than most. As soon as Echo felt the shift, he threw all his weight to the right. The guard fell forward and gave Echo just enough time to draw his pistol and fire.

“Wrecker, how’re doing over there?” Echo yelled and turned to find his next opponent- except there was no one left to fight.

When the guards had come through the doorway, Wrecker had stood from his ‘hiding spot’ behind the recliner and hurled it across the room. It crashed into two of the guards, knocking them out cold. The large Clone then rushed the last guard but before he could reach them, a blaster bolt hit the guard dead center of their chestplate.

“Cross, that doesn’t count! And you know it!” Wrecker protested.

“Sure it does. You were at least a meter away.” Crosshair said. “Better luck next time.”

“We’ll tally up back at the ship,” Echo said. “Tech, how’s it-.”

“I’ve got it!” Tech exclaimed. “The scanner should be emitting the same frequency as the security device.”

“Should?”

“Well, I’m not 100 percent sure since I’m doing this remotely,” Tech said. “But, if it makes you feel better, I’m almost positive the bombs won’t be triggered as soon as Nylo leaves the room.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Wrecker muttered.

“It’ll have to work,” Echo said. “The Imperial forces will be showing up any minute now, and I have a feeling that ISB will be with them.”

“What makes you say that?” Crosshair asked.

“My guess is that Nylo has just as much information on the ISB as they do on him. And if ISB thinks he’s compromised, they’ll send someone to silence him for good.”

“Wow, they sure do teach you everything at ARC school,” Crosshair said sarcastically.

Echo rolled his eyes and went to Nylo’s side bag which was laying on the ground. He knelt down and sorted through it’s contents. Selecting one of about a dozen small black devices embossed with the Imperial crest, he held it up for Crosshair to see.

“No, but it’s what I would do if my informant made a habit of carrying around classified data chips.” Echo shut the bag, slung it around his own shoulder, and turned to Wrecker - who had picked up the cat again. “Put that thing down!”

“No! I’m not leaving her all alone in a room that could explode.”

Not having the energy to argue, Echo walked past Wrecker and into the hallway. He had recalled seeing an extensive duct system when studying the building schematics earlier, but thought it irrelevant until now. All of the panels were too small to fit though- until he spotted a silver hatch.

“Tech, where do the duct’s lead to?”

“According to the building schematics, there are actually two sets of duct work. The first is for the HVAC system, and the second for the trash system.”

Echo opened the hatch to reveal a long chute that plunged into the darkness. It was much too small for someone Wrecker or even Echo’s size, but a scrawny Rodian on the other hand…

“Where does the trash chute lead- coming from the tenth floor?”

“It’s a straight drop to the basement trash collector.”

“Great!” Echo exclaimed and walked back into Nylo’s apartment. “Crosshair, I’m gonna need you to get to the basement.”

“Are you kidding me? Why do I have trash duty!?”

“Because Wrecker and I are about to play hide-and-seek with the ISB,” Echo said. “Here’s the plan .”

...

By the time Echo was done explaining his plan, the first Imperial transport had arrived. About a dozen of white armored Stormtroopers filed out, rifles at the ready. More sirens could be heard in the distance.

“- understand?” Echo finished.

“I dunno,” Tech said cautiously. “Seems like an awfully big risk to take. If we just left Nylo-”

“No!” Echo protested. “Nylo is the only lead we have to track down Agent Grimbol. We won’t give that up now.”

“When haven’t we taken risks?” Wrecker said. “I’m ready!”

“While I get to dig around a dumpster,” Crosshair muttered.

“Then let’s get to work.” Echo said.

Just as the first team of Stormtroopers moved into the building’s lobby, the last strap of a harness tightened around Echo’s torso. It wasn’t especially secure- it had been designed to fit around Wrecker.

“I’m starting to rethink this,” Echo said nervously as a metal clip for the wire cable was secured to the harness’s central ring.

“Don’t be such a baby,” Wrecker said.

“You’re the one who is afraid of heights,” Echo shot back.

Wrecker huffed and gave the cable an experimental tug, causing Echo to stumble forward.

“I’m not afraid. I just happen to disagree with gravity,” Wrecker explained then gave the pillar the cable was anchored to an once-over. “Alright, you have about seven floors of cable to work with.”

“All I need is three,” Echo said. “And you remember your part?”

“Sure! Shove him down the trash chute,” Wrecker nudged Nylo’s unconscious form with his foot, “Then we,” he held up the cat, “Get to the seventh floor and cause some ruckus.”

“Right, and I’ll go to the third floor and do the same. Hopefully that will force the Empire to divide up their forces. And within enough luck, we can slip past the squads and escape in the confusion.”

Echo and Wrecker walked to the ledge of the large broken window, and Echo looked down. The crowd that gathered in the streets below seemed so tiny, causing him to gulp. He never had an issue with heights. But then again, he was usually confident in his equipment. A too-large harness and a cable that sat bunched up in Wrecker’s pack didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

“Just remember; don’t jam up the brake.” Wrecker warned. “That would be very bad.”

“Wait, how would I do that?” Echo said, but was suddenly shoved from behind.

The wave of fear that came with the gut-dropping sensation of falling lasted only a moment before his ARC training kicked in. Echo turned so he was facing the building and counted the number of windows that passed.

_Six, five, four, three, two-_

Echo grabbed the brake-clip and squeezed, jerking to a stop right outside of a third story window. He could hear people from the crowd exclaim with excitement. It was quickly drowned out by a “ _blast him_!” and the sound of bolts streaking through the air. Knowing he had successfully drawn their attention, Echo pushed off the window and when he swung back forward, his metal legs made quick work shattering the glass.

When he was through the window, he hit the quick release latch and the cable fell away. Echo had intended on doing a three-point-roll into a standing position with his weapon drawn, just like he had done a million times during basic training. Except back then, he didn’t have the extra metal bulk causing extra momentum. So instead of looking badass, he ended up landing in a pile of glass shards.

“Wrecker, I’m going to kill you!” Echo growled and struggled to his feet. “You pushed me out that window!”

“You were fine,” Wrecker replied.

Echo yelped as he pulled a piece of glass that was embedded into his forearm. It wasn’t a very deep wound, but it still stung like hell. He was thankful that at least the room he crashed was empty so nobody had seen the less-than-elegant landing.

“At least you had a harness,” Tech chimed in. “One time he let me free-fall from a twelfth story window.”

“And you were also fine,” Wrecker said defensively. Then there was the sound of metal slamming through the comms. “And now Nylo gets to have a very unpleasant fall without a harness and guess what? He’s not complaining!.”

“Wait a second. Wrecker.” Crosshairs voice became very panicked. “Did you put that Rodian through the trash chute feet-first or head-first?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!” the three Clones yelled in unison.

“Feet-first, duh. I’m not stupid.”

Echo let out a relieved sigh. “Cross, Tech, how are you two doing?”

…

A few minutes earlier, Crosshair and Echo had exited the office building and made their way towards the apartment complex. It had been easy to remain unnoticed in the large crowd that had formed. Just as they reached the small barricade, a third Imperial transport arrived on the scene.

“I’m making a break for the basement,” Crosshair said. “Stay here.”

“Wait.” Tech said suddenly, grabbing Crosshair’s arm. “I think I found Echo’s ISB agent.”

The first person to step from the new transport was a woman wearing a crisp, black uniform with no designation. Her dark eyes scanned the Stormtroopers already on scene and as soon as she spotted one that held a slightly higher rank, she stomped towards them. Crosshair and Tech could both hear her yells through all the commotion.

“You!” She shouted, pointing to the trooper. “I want crowd control out here, now! And you- where are the suspects?”

“Ma’am, we are unsure where the intruder is at-” the Stormtrooper started.

There was a scream from the crowd as Echo very enthusiastically flung himself from the tenth story window. The cable became taught and his fall came to a screeching halt. He dangled above the street, almost taunting the Stormtroopers below.

“Blast him!” A trooper yelled, and a few managed to fire before Echo crashed through the third story window.

“Ma’am, we have appeared to have found the intruder,” the Stormtrooper said weakly.

“Get me a squad, now!” The ISB Agent shouted. “And lock this place down. No one in or out until I say so.

“Yes, ma’am,” the Trooper saluted before hurrying off.

The two Clones watched as a group of twenty troopers, led by the Agent, entered the building and four guards posted at the doors.

“There goes any chance of getting in,” Crosshair said. “And if they search the basement, Nylo is as good as gone.”

“I may have a solution,” Tech said and pulled out his datapad. Crosshair raised an eyebrow.

“You know that none of your plans have ever worked.”

“Not true! That one time on Tatooine, I got us away from those bounty hunters.”

“Your ‘plan’ was throwing sand in their face and yelling ‘run’.” Tech scoffed.

“Fine. But this time I’m 82.3 percent it will work.”

Echo and Wrecker briefly argued over the comms before Echo asked, “Cross, Tech, how are you two doing?”

“Slight issue. Your ISB agent showed up sooner than expected and secured the building. There’s no way I’m getting to the basement.” Crosshair said. “But don’t worry, Tech has a plan.”

“Oh?”

“Just trust me!” Tech exclaimed. “We’ll have Nylo and our getaway vehicle in twenty minutes.”

“Make it fifteen,” Echo said. “I don’t know how many times the Empire will fall for the same trick.”

“Well, you have about two dozen troopers headed your way,” Crosshair warned. “Plus the ISB Agent. She seemed pretty ticked off.”

“Not a problem,” Wrecker said. “We’re ready.”

“Just stay focused,” Echo said.

The comms went silent and Crosshair turned to Tech, arms crossed. “Okay, genius. What's the play?”

Tech motioned for Crosshair to follow and they headed across the street. When they were out of view of any troopers, he pulled out a disposable communicator.

“I just programmed this one to operate on the Imperial frequency,” Tech explained, then cleared his throat. When he spoke, he tried to deepen his voice, causing Crosshair to sputter with laughter. “This is Trooper 382,” Tech said, shoving Crosshair to try and shut him up. “The doorman just told us that there is a body in the basement trash collector. It appears to be a Rodian and in need of medical assistance.”

“Copy that Trooper 382,” a dull sounding voice responded. “Redirecting a squad down there now.”

Crosshair stopped snickering and threw his hands up. “So we just handed Nylo over to the Empire?”

“Yes. Then they’ll hand him right back,” Tech said, turning towards a transport.

…

Echo had based the plan off one General Skywalker created during a mission in which the 501st had gotten in over their heads (as usual). The General had called it ‘the shell game’. The idea was to have three units act as ‘cover’ for a true objective. The units moved as fast and random as possible to keep the enemy off balance and prevent them from discovering which unit was actually carrying out the objective. Now, Echo and Wrecker were the ‘covers’ for Crosshair and Tech extracting Nylo from the building.

A surprising advantage to such a constricted apartment building was there were only two lifts that, at maximum, carried six people. So over the following ten minutes, Echo and Wrecker climbed through the elevator shaft to a random floor, triggered a security alarm, and left before a squad arrived. The hardest part so far had been convincing Wrecker to climb to the higher floors of the apartment. But as time dragged on, they started to run out for floors not crawling with Imperials.

“Wrecker, what floor are you on?” Echo asked as he pried open the sixth-floor lift doors.

“Just left the sixth,” Wrecker said right as Echo pushed himself onto that exact floor.

Echo stood to find himself face-to-face with three Stromtroopers who seemed just as surprised as he was. It gave Echo just enough time to draw and fire three shots from his pistol, dropping two of the Troopers before he dove back into the elevator shaft. He missed the ladder rungs and fell backwards a few feet before hitting the top of the elevator, which had luckily stopped on the fifth floor. The impact caused his already bruised ribs to throb in pain and Echo could feel where the metal had dented under his weight. He groaned and rolled onto his back, looking up the dark corridor.

“Wrecker, times up,” Echo said between gritted teeth. “Go to the first floor and get out.”

“Copy that boss. What about you?”

“I’m right behind you. Tech, where is the exit vehicle?”

“We’re on the north side of the building. Just look for an Imperial transport,” Tech replied, but it was difficult to hear him because of an indistinct yelling in the background.

“Is everything alright?” Echo asked.

“We’re just peachy,” Crosshair's voice was incredibly strained, “Just hurry it up, would you?”

“ _What was that?”_ a muffled feminine voice sounded like it was coming from beneath Echo.

He rolled onto his side and pressed his ear against the top of the elevator carriage.

“F Squad, what do you have? I thought one was reported on the eighth floor?” the ISB agent growled. “No, stay where you are. I have a feeling they’re about to make their escape. We’re heading to the first floor to head them off now.”

The elevator began its descent, and Echo was about to warn Wrecker when he spotted a small hatch. It dawned on him that it must be an emergency escape, and now for him, a surprise entrance. He stood and holstered his pistol, knowing it would be useless in a confined space, and wrapped his hand around the handle. Echo took a deep breath, visualizing that fight that was about to occur and flung the hatch open.

In a fraction of a second, an assessment of the situation ran through his mind. Perhaps it was the only useful ‘habit’ that remained from the Techno-Union. There were four targets- three troopers and the ISB agent. With a fifth person now standing in the center of things, it would restrict movement. So by the time even a yelp could escape from the trooper to his left, Echo had grabbed by the back of their helmet and slammed it into the one in front of them. He could hear the helmets crack under the impact and both troopers collapsed.

Out of a terrible impulse, Echo couldn’t help but say, “Sorry to drop in like this.”

Echo swung his right arm, catching the trooper to his right behind the neck and pulled him into a half choke grapple. Using them to balance, he kicked the ISB agent square in the diaphragm and sent her stumbling back. The trooper under his arm began to struggle, so Echo shoved them down as he drove his knee up into the exposed throat. Once, twice, on the third time he felt something break and he dropped the body to turn all his attention to the ISB Agent. She had recovered from the blow and had drawn a weapon that Echo hadn’t noticed before. It was a heavily modified blaster which would be better described as a hand-cannon.

“You really thought you could get the drop on me?” The Agent laughed humorlessly. “I’ve dealt with plenty of your kind before.”

Those last words, and how she practically spat them like venom, caught Echo by surprise. She saw his hesitation and leveled the pistol to his chest. Echo moved just as The Agent pulled the trigger, the bolt blasting a large hole into the side of the elevator. He lunged, sweeping his hand up to catch her by the wrist. She fired three more times, punching holes into the roof, before the squeezing pressure on her wrist became unbearable and she dropped the blaster.

Not so easily defeated, her eyes narrowed and she stepped closer to Echo, ducking under his right side. She drove her muscular shoulder into his side, pushing his off stance. Echo tried to pivot to grab her but she was much faster, kicking her leg out and catching him behind the knee. As he fell backwards, he had just enough reach to grab The Agent by the bicep and drag her to the ground with him. The Agent fell on top of him, and Echo had just enough time and leverage to flip their positions, pinning her to the ground.

“How dare you,” The Agent snarled, writhing in his grip. “I am an Agent of the Empire-”

Echo felt an overwhelming rush of anger course through his body and his vision began to blur. His mechanical hand suddenly clutched her throat, and he pushed all his weight behind the grip. The Agent’s eyes widened, as if she just then realized how much danger she was in. And in that moment, Echo wanted nothing more than to break her neck. Agent Grimbol had taken one of theirs, and now he had a chance to level the playing field- or at least send a message.

But in a second of clarity he loosened his grip just enough for her to draw a breath.

“If you cooperate, I’ll let you live. Got it?” he said slowly.

“I’m no traitor,” she spat.

“I don’t want any information. Actually the opposite- I need a message passed along.”

“Really?” The Agent seemed genuinely curious.

“Yes. Now, do you work for Agent Grimbol?”

The Agent nodded.

“Perfect. I want you to tell him this,” Echo paused to gather his thoughts. “Tell Grimbol that there is no system, no planet, no rock that he can hide under that I won’t be able to find him. And when I do, he is going to regret even conjuring the idea to try and take one of our own.”

“Wait a second,” she said. “You’re one of them?”

“One of who?”

“Those defective Clones that Grimbol is obsessed with,” she laughed. “Oh, you have no idea what's coming, do you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Echo snarled.

“I’ve heard things- rumors- about what he’s doing to your friend,” she said darkly. “And rumor has it that there isn’t much left of him.”

_So Hunter is still alive_ , Echo thought and such a large wave a relief washed over him that his grip relaxed. T

he Agent took advantage of the slack and grabbed his elbow, wrenching it to the right at an awkward angle. Echo fell to the side, giving her enough space to slide out from beneath him. Just as The Agent’s hand wrapped around the grip of her blaster, Echo appeared over her and threw a punch that caught the bridge of her nose. Her nose crunched under his fist and she was knocked unconscious.

“I hope she remembers the message,” Echo muttered to himself, and stepped out of the lift- which had long since arrived at the first floor.

Wrecker stood at the doors, armed with his rifle and an oddly relaxed cat. When he saw it was just Echo, he lowered his gun.

“Nice work,” Wrecker said, motioning at the carnage inside the elevator.

“Thank you,” Echo replied. “Ready to get the hell out of here?”

“After you.”

“No, after you. I learned my lesson about being near you and windows.”

Wrecker grinned and they made their way to a window on the north side of the building. Getting out was as difficult as opening the window and dropping a few feet into an alleyway. The entrance to the alley was blocked by an Imperial transport. Although Tech had said that was the vehicle they should look for, Echo was skeptical until a side door opened and revealed Tech standing with his arms crossed.

“Took you long enough,” he huffed as Echo and Wrecker jumped into the back of the transport.

“Um. What is that?” Tech was pointing at the cat cradled in Wreckers arms.

“Meet the new mascot!” Wrecker said cheerfully.

“No.” Echo corrected, “It’s Nylo’s cat that Wrecker refused to leave.”

“That apartment could have been blown up!”

“We’re not keeping that thing,” Crosshair grumbled from the front seat.

“That requires a group vote and since we’re not all here, it doesn’t count,” Wrecker said smugly.

“Hang on, where is Nylo?” Echo asked, looking around, but spotted him strapped to a gurney looking a little worse for wear.

“Was the fall that bad?”

Crosshair cleared his throat. “Getting Nylo out of the building was very, um, involved.”

Echo frowned. “What does that mean, _involved?_ ”

“It means that the plan involved tricking troopers into extracting Nylo, us posing as an Imperial Medical Team, commandeering an Imperial transport, having to take out a few troopers when they realized we weren't actually-” Tech started. “

It also involved having to knock that idiot out when he woke up,” Crosshair nodded towards Nylo. “And let me say, he is very angry about this whole situation.”

“Sounds like you had a good time, at least,” Echo said,and climbed into the front passenger seat, “So what are we waiting for? Let's get out of here.”

“Not yet,” Tech said, “In three, two, -.”

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the street as one of the other Imperial transports erupted in flames.

“When did you have time to plant a charge?!”

“In between killing Imperials and not killing Nylo,” Crosshair said, putting the transport into drive and heading in the opposite direction at a slow speed. It was quite anticlimactic, sure, but it didn’t draw attention as any remaining Imperials rushed to try and contain the blaze. “We’re good at multitasking.”

“Apparently,” Echo said, impressed. “When you two aren’t trying to kill each other you make a good team.”

“Oh! Can I choose the radio station?” Wrecker asked.

“This is an Imperial vehicle, I doubt it has a radio-,” Echo said, looking over the console but then spotted one. “Huh. I wonder what they even listen to.” He turned on the radio, which immediately began blasting an Imperial Propaganda channel. “Yeah, I should have seen that coming.”

“Good thing that the driver picks the music,” Crosshair smirked and began to flip through stations.

The radio turned through a dozen stations before Crosshair settled on one broadcasting ear-splitting heavy metal. Which just so happened to be Wrecker's favorite genre. Echo settled back into his seat, and sighed, trying to relax despite the music. Although the plan had gone askew, they ended up with more than they intended. Not only did they have Nylo as a bargaining chip, but also his classified data and the knowledge that Grimbol had kept Hunter alive.

Echo thought back to the Agents' words, I’ve dealt with plenty of your kind before and was beginning to have the unsettling feeling that this plot ran much deeper than an angry ISB agent versus a few renegade Clones. He turned to tell the rest of the group what had happened, but then saw Crosshair tapping his fingers on the wheel to the beat, and Wrecker air guitaring in the back seat, and Tech pretending not to enjoy himself, despite a sly smile. They all seemed almost... happy. Sure, there was still the misery of being one person short but it had also been a mission where they all walked away. They deserved a shard of happiness, for as long as it lasted.

\---

So far, in the entirety of his short (and stressful) life Hunter had never dreamed. He wasn’t sure if it was a side effect of his mutation or if the Kaminoens had managed to breed the ability out of Clones altogether. It’s not like he had ever asked any of the Regs - he didn’t need another reason to stand out. And by the time the Bad Batch had been formed, he hadn’t given the idea of dreaming much thought.

Now, after what felt like an eternity of hanging- sore and bleeding- Hunter had almost managed to nod off to sleep when the doors opened. Hunter cracked open an eye and let out an annoyed sigh. He wasn’t expecting any medical personal, since the damage inflicted during the last round of torture hadn’t warrented any life-saving intervention. However, he was surprised to see Grimbol enter the room and struggled to come too through the haze of exhaustion.

“Back already?” Hunter rasped, finding it odd that the Agent wasn’t keeping their non-schedule. U

sually after an intense interrogation session, Hunter was allowed a bit longer of a recovery period. There was also something in the way Grimbol was carrying himself that put Hunter on edge. The Agent was smiling.

“I just received some news that I thought you would find… insightful.” Grimbol replied.

“Let me guess, I’m going to be executed,” Hunter said dryly. “No, better yet, you’re going to be executed for incompetence. Sorry to hear it, really am.”

The Agent shook his head in the same manner as someone disappointed in a child. “And here I was thinking that you’d run out of jokes.”

“Nah, I’m the witty one.” Hunter said. “Wait a second, where is your lackey?”

“The Commander will not be joining us today. I thought it would be more productive, just the two of us.”

“That's too bad. I wanted to thank him for missing my kidney the other day.”

Grimbol suddenly reached over to a small control panel on the wall and pressed a button. The chain that suspended Hunter went slack, dropping him to the ground. As soon as his feet touched the ground, his legs buckled.

“Not so amused anymore,” Grimbol said. “Maybe I’ll have my Commander break your jaw next, see just how ’witty’ you are.”

Panting, Hunter tried to pull himself to his feet but his calves seized, partially from neglect and due to the long cuts that spanned the length of the muscle that hadn’t quite healed yet. He stood for a few seconds before collapsing to the ground.

“You think this is bad? I tattooed half my face.”

Grimbol looked down to Hunter, which he found worse than when the Agent glared up at his suspended body.

“Oh, I think your situation can get much worse,” he said darkly. “Now, allow me to share an amusing story. A few hours ago, an Agent reported to me that one of our best confidants was kidnapped. Right out of his apartment in broad daylight with Imperial forces on site. The assailants even took his cat.”

“Can’t say I’m too surprised. Your people seem to have an issue with aim.”

“It was quite remarkable how they did it. It seemed that they threw their hostage down a trash chute and hid in an elevator shaft until ambushing my people. Then they stole an Imperial transport to get away. A very elaborate ruse, very unorthodox.”

Hunter froze. That sounded like an incredibly stupid plan and unfortunately he knew four people who were really good at pulling those off. Grimbol sensed Hunter’s trepidation and continued.

“It ended with a dramatic confrontation with one of my Agents present. The report makes it out to be quite the violent act- apparently the attacker dropped from the ceiling and demanded she pass along a message.”

“What did he say?” Hunter said, trying his hardest to keep any emotion from his voice.

“I’ll spare you the details, but he made a very solid threat that he was coming to kill me.”

Filled with a fire that he hadn’t felt since he awoke on that first day, Hunter couldn’t stop himself from laughing and doubled over from the force of it. “You are so _fucked._ ”

When he looked up, he was surprised that the Agent was still wearing his same smug smile. “I would suggest holding your laughter, unless you find the capture of your team amusing.”

“You think you can stop them? I was content with leaving the Empire alone, we all were. But now? They’re gonna tear a hole through this damned place and put a blast bolt right between your eyes.”

“I’m not overly concerned. Because you’re about to tell me everything- birth numbers, location, ship tracking number- all of it.”

Hunter rolled his eyes, “Not this again-.”

Grimbol held up a hand to silence him. “You know, the higher-ups never took the threat of renegade Clones as seriously as I did. The Admirals and Generals regard your kind as obsolete, outdated tools that are in need of phasing out.” The Agent took out a communicator from his pocket and double-pressed one of the paging buttons before continuing. “I was given certain... limitations as to what I could do with you. But after that little stunt your people pulled? Now there is, on record, a credible threat against the Empire and an Imperial officer. The brass have seen the carnage your kind can create. I’ve now been given the proper authority to stop the threat.”

“What does that mean?” Hunter snarled and, with the last bit of energy, grabbed the chain above him.

He used it to pull himself to his feet and support most of his weight. A bead of sweat instantly formed across his forehead from the effort.

“It means, _Hunter_ , things are about to get much, much worse.” Hunter did not like a single one of those words. A moment later, a human in a grey medical uniform entered the room with a cart it tow.

They looked nervously at Hunter who was standing there with an undoubtedly feral look on his face. “Agent, er, could we subdue the patient before we proceed?”

“Of course,” Grimbol replied politely and pressed another button on the same panel.

As Hunter prepared to be lifted back into his normal hanging position, a jolt of electricity shot down the chain, into the manacles, and through him. He gasped and immediately fell to the ground, his jaw clenching as two more waves of electricity were sent down. The entire world had gone to static, much like when he had been hit with the EMP.

“There you go doctor, nice and subdued.”

“Uh huh,” the Doctor replied in an unconvinced tone.

They retrieved an object from the cart and crouched next to Hunter. “Agent Grimbol, I am sure that the CMO informed you this drug is still in the testing phase. The results have been overwhelming positive in cases where the side effects-”

“Yes, I was briefed,” Grimbol said curtly. “Please administer the drug.”

Hunter felt a sharp prick in his forearm and he snarled, causing the Doctor to jump back.

Grimbol chuckled. “Don’t worry, he’s harmless.”

“Um- the full flight on injections will be done over hour intervals to negate any of the side effects that we’ve been seeing in test subjects so far.”

“But how long until it begins to take effect?”

“We should be seeing the first signs any minute now.”

Feeling his senses beginning to return, Hunter groaned and pushed himself up onto his knees. “What the fuck was in that?”

Grimbol walked up to Hunter, who felt himself having to physically withhold a flinch. The Agent then took a knee in front of him so that they were at eye-level.

“You have been so very difficult and while it has been fun, I need results. I’m quite tired of my colleagues dismissing my concerns. And the kind Doctor here had been working on a drug that makes people feel a little more persuasive when they otherwise wouldn’t be.”

As the Agent talked, Hunter felt himself becoming woozy. And somehow, more relaxed. It was the way he felt after having two or three glasses of smooth whiskey paired with an expensive cigar.

“Can’t even play fair,” Hunter murmured. “Figures.”

Grimbol reached a hand out towards Hunter, who just sat there, trying to sort out his muddled thoughts. _Where-? Something is missing? Don’t say anything-_. The Agent grabbed Hunter’s chin and, not requiring any force, angled his face up.

“Much better. Now, what was your birth number?”

Hunter found himself saying. “‘Was an E-C batch- didn’t get a real number.”

_Why did I just say that_? Was the only coherent thought Hunter was able to have before he jerked away from Grimbol’s grip.

“Hmm. It's a start. How many are in your rebel cell?”

“You think we’re rebels?” Hunter had to concentrate to force out the words. “We’re mercenaries.”

Grimbol turned back to the Doctor. “What would happen if another dose was administered?”

“Now?”

“Why not?”

“Because we haven’t tested the results of such a concentrated dosage.”

“Well here’s a perfect little test subject for you right now, since he’s feeling so resistant. Go ahead.”

“But-”

“That's an order.”

“Yes sir.”

Hunter didn’t move when the Doctor circled behind him, and he felt another prick in his arm.

“Lets try that again,” Grimbol said. “How many are in your cell?”

The pleasant sensation was starting to morph into a burning- one that was beginning to engulf all of his senses. _Don’t say anything. But I should- I have to_.

“It’s just the five of us,” Hunter breathed. “We’re all that left.”

“Very good. Now tell me names, ranks, locations. What is your goal?”

All four names began to race though his mind like a mantra. Along with all of their hideouts, contacts, every plan that had ever been conceived. The words stopped at the top of his tongue, and he couldn’t bring himself to say it. But he had to say something. Maybe then all this pain and confusion would go away.

“My goal?” Hunter said slowly. “I guess that would be to always keep the kitchen stocked with caff. Wrecker drinks way too much of that stuff but throws a fit when we run out. I’ve also been meaning to teach Cross how to play Sabacc properly. He’s great at darts, shit at cards.” Hunter’s body began to shake violently but he didn’t stop. “That reminds me, I need to get more blankets for the ship. Tech is always too cold and hoards all the good ones. And Echo-”

Echo had made his gamble. Whoever this ‘source’ they took had to be the key to his rescue, and more importantly, stopping Grimbol. Hunter knew he wouldn't jeopardize the plan now by giving them up. He was trained to be stronger than that. Hell, he had been trained to withstand Sith techniques- how bad could a drug be?

As if on cue, Hunter fell to the ground and convulsed, unable to catch his breath. When he finally drew a deep breath, his sputtering exhale was coated in blood. He could faintly hear a shouting match between the Doctor and Grimbol, then more needles were shoved into his veins. The burning was ice cold and all consuming and Hunter let out a scream of agony that lasted for force-knows how long. And when his eyes rolled into the back of his head, for the first time in his life, Hunter began to dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooof this was a beast to write. I literally had to have an additional five pages to justify an elevator fight scene. 
> 
> Once again, thank you everyone for your kind comments and good vibes! Not to be dramatic, but I low-key tear up reading them. So the next chapter is going to be a bit shorter then we enter the home stretch of this fic (which is actually going to end up being 10 chapters fyi). 
> 
> Also, when tf are we getting the Mando Season 2 trailer?!


	6. Breaking Down

Hunter was surprised to find himself in an empty training room. Looking around, there was something intimately familiar about the floor mats and paneled walls and the recycled air that contained the faintest smell of the sea. But as suddenly as the confusion came, it was gone and Hunter shut the door, flipped on the ‘In Progress’ sign, and walked to the weapons rack. 

Glancing over the choices, he landed on the largest of the training knives. He knew from experience that the blade was unfortunately dull and annoyingly off balance. Still, Hunter picked it and walked to the center of the mat where he started to go over his forms. When he moved, he felt as if the blade became an extension of his being and the familiarity of the movements allowed his mind to clear. 

And it was working, up until he brought the blade down in an arc and dropped into a lunge. In that moment, his body froze and muscles locked when a wave of realization came crashing down. Because, in that moment, he had just managed to process what the hell had just happened. 

A few minutes ago, Hunter was to be terminated. He had been strapped to a medical table with a needle in his vein and the words ‘ **Experiment: Failed** ’ added to his file. It didn’t get much more finalized than that. But then, some Reg had burst into the room, waving around a stack of official looking documents. 

At first, Hunter felt a bit annoyed at the delay. It had taken him quite a while to work up the courage to face death head-on and didn't feel like losing that momentum. But, surprisingly, the doctors stepped to the side reluctantly and allowed the Reg to undo the padded straps around his wrist and ankles. Hunter sat up, ripped the IV from his forearm and stared at the bloody needle pinched between his fingers. A numb sensation took over his senses, to where he didn’t really feel the Reg take the needle and help him to his feet. 

“Wait outside. I’ll be with you momentarily,” The Reg said in a tone that made it feel much more like an order. 

But Hunter was never really one for following orders, so he wandered through the halls of Kamino until he found an empty training room. And now, he was frozen in place until he managed to process a coherent thought. 

_Just who does that Reg think he is?_ Hunter thought angrily, and that anger helped ground him once again. Switching to his non-dominant hand, he began to work through all of the forms in reverse. _I’m just an EC. Experimental Clones are nothing more than lab rats, born and bred to die. Not something worth saving._

Hunter spun on his heel, releasing the knife from his grip. It sailed through the air and embedded itself in the wall, just centimetres away from the Reg’s throat. Much to Hunter’s surprise, the Reg didn’t even flinch.

“That’s some way to show gratitude,” the Reg said, sounding almost amused. “I could have you court-martialed.”

Hunter stared at him, trying to figure out why he looked so familiar- more than the normal familiar that came with being a Clone. This Reg looked like every other stock Clone, save for the heavy scar that curled down the side of his face, narrowly avoiding his eye. 

“Why?” Hunter finally managed to say, “Why did you just do that? I’m an EC- that means I get terminated when the Doctors find my defect. That's how it works.”

The Reg’s expression became grim. “The Jedi are putting an end to the EC program. It should have never been authorized in the first place.” 

“Oh, please,” Hunter bristled. “Whatever gives them the upper-hand against the Separatists is justifiable. All in the name of peace and order, am I right?”

The Reg sighed and grabbed the knife. He walked across the room and flipped the blade to offer Hunter the hilt. Hunter accepted it, but the Reg didn’t release his grip. Instead, he looked Hunter intently in the eyes. 

“I swear to you, the Jedi had no idea that the Kaminoens were altering Clones at such a base level. They had assumed that any experimentation had to do with the aging process.”

“And that makes it better?” Hunter shot back. “So how many were there?”

The Reg frowned. “How many what?”

“How many bad batches?”

“The records we could get a hold of indicate that two hundred batches were authorized for the EC program.”

“Two hundred batches?!” Hunter exclaimed. “How many EC’s are there?”

“Unfortunately, the mortality rate of the program was exponentially high. There’s only a handful remaining.” The Reg released the blade and took a step back.

“That still doesn’t explain why you saved me.”

“Your file was the first I was able to get my hands on,” The Reg said. “Of course, having proof of what the Kaminoens were doing was enough for one of our Senator friends to order an investigation. But then I read through your training records and test scores. Did you know that the results are in the first percentile?”

Hunter frowned. After all those tests, the Doctors would leave the room shaking their heads in disappointment. They had him run through all the training courses dozens of times with no breaks, every time urging him to try _harder._

“None of that matters,” Hunter said. “You know why they were executing me, right? Behavioral problems, the inability to follow orders, issues with general socialization- I can go on. That means that down to my base genetic code, I’m flawed.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” The Reg said, a faint smile ghosting his lips. “I know more than a few people in the GAR that have the same problem.”

“Oh, really?”

“There’s more to a man than what’s in his file. So why don’t you show me?”

“Show what?”

“Show me what you’re made of. Care to spar?”

“Always,” Hunter replied with a grin. “There won’t be much to show. Reg’s don’t usually last that long against me.”

Is that so?” The Reg said as he retrieved an identical training knife from the weapons rack. “Oh- have you been given a name? You’re only referred to as an EC number in the file.” 

“A Mandolorian trainer I worked with started calling me ‘Hunter’. A bit unoriginal if you ask me. Too on-the-nose.” He watched as the Reg started to circle him, passing the knife from hand to hand. “And I never caught yours.” 

“My number is CC-2224. But my _name_ is Cody.”

“Oh,” Hunter said dumbly. “Like, ‘Marshall Commander of the 7th Sky Corps’ Cody.” 

Cody gave a sympathetic nod. “Unless there is another one I’m unaware of.”

“Yeah, I probably should have saluted you.”

“Most do,” Cody replied, then lunged. 

As the fight drew out for much longer than he had anticipated, Hunter realized just how good Cody was. Before Hunter even realized he made a slight mistake, Cody would take advantage of it and get one or two good blows in. But as soon as Hunter figured out the pattern to Cody’s movements, the fight balanced out. He had never been up against someone who matched his skill level before, and it was thrilling. Hunter found himself wondering if this was what it was like to be in a normal batch. 

Hunter jumped back, trying to put enough space between him and Cody so he could catch his breath. When he looked up at the Commander, ready to throw out a taunt, but the words caught in his throat. Cody was standing rigidly, his expression blank and eyes cold. Hunter’s eyes drifted to the training knife in his hands, which was now wickedly sharp and had blood rolling down the dark metal. 

“Um, is that a training blade?” Hunter asked weakly. “Commander?” 

Without a word, Cody rushed him. Hunter turned to run, but Cody was faster than he could have anticipated. He felt the knife plunge into his back, right below the shoulder blade and twist violently. The force was enough to send Hunter falling towards the ground, but he never hit the mat. Instead, he began to fall through the swirling darkness for what could’ve been an eternity. 

When Hunter finally felt contact with a solid surface, he opened his eyes to find himself standing in a familiar bar. _But that doesn’t make any sense. I was just… somewhere else,_ his thoughts were muddled as he took in his surroundings. 

Ka’vah’s was packed as usual, but it was eerily silent. He watched as people’s mouths opened and closed, but no sound came out. As he tried to focus on the distinct features of one person's face, it would morph into a vague arrangement. That wasn’t the only thing that was odd. Everyone's movements seemed constricted, as if time had slowed. The usually bright colors of Ka’vah’s were muted and the normal purple glow became an eerie grey. 

Confusion growing by the second, Hunter began to push through people- and they didn’t even react to his hostile movements. The crowd parted on its own and revealed a path to the one person who seemed… real. Ka’vah stood behind the bar in her formal evening attire consisting of a modest white dress and golden jewelry.

“Hunter!” the Togruta exclaimed when she took notice of him. “It’s great to see you! Take a seat.”

She gestured to an empty barstool, and Hunter felt obligated to sit in spite of his overwhelming urge to run. 

“What- what I am doing here?” Hunter asked. 

“I’m assuming to pick up the chit for the job I called an hour ago,” she replied, “Sorry, but another group beat you to it. I waited for as long as I could, but I can't always play favorites.” 

As she gave him a playful wink, Hunter’s frown deepened. This scene was all too familiar, like an intense deja-vous. 

“Well, we’d be on time if Wrecker wasn’t so concerned about what he was going to wear to this meeting. Seems to only care about that sort of thing when you’re involved.” The words tumbled from his lips clumsily, because he hadn’t meant to say any of that. Instead, he wanted to scream “ _What the fuck is happening to me?”_

“Wrecker… which one is that again?” Ka’vah said, cocking her head to the side. The movement seemed too rigid, to unnatural. 

Hunter blinked. “You’re joking, right?”

“Please, enlighten me.” 

“The big guy? One-man wrecking ball?”

“Oh yes. _Him_.” the Togruta smiled, and her fangs seemed longer than normal. “And just where is Wrecker right now?”

 _Where is Wrecker, actually?_ Hunter couldn’t recall the last time he had seen the big guy. It had felt like such a long time- but how could it be? They had all walked to Ka’vah’s together, hell, they had been sitting at the bar together a moment ago- hadn’t they? 

“I could have sworn, he was sitting right there,” Hunter murmured, nodding toward the barstool to his left. “He was just here. What’s going on?”

“And where is here?” Ka’vah said forcefully. “Where are you at, Hunter?”

Panic surged through him, and all he wanted in that moment was to stand up and run. _Maybe if I answered the question, I can leave. I can find the rest of the Batch._

“I’m at your bar, Ka’vah. On Beona,” Hunter said, his voice sounding small. “You called us here for a job- something about stealing Imperial codes from a databank?”

“Very good,” she purred as blood began to trickle from the corner of her eyes. It traced down the white markings of her face. “You better get going- he’s coming.”

Hunter felt the invisible force un-tethered itself, and he shot out of the seat. Part of him wanted to ask _who is coming?_ , but he knew he wouldn’t like the answer. Instead, he ran into the crowd and waded through the sea of people. No matter how hard he pushed, he couldn’t seem to escape the pressure of those pressing against him. The force became unbearable, and just as he thought he was about to be crushed, the crowd transformed. Bodies melted around him and turned into water that was as deep and black as the sea of Kamino. Hunter kicked furiously to keep his head above water but felt a hand wrap around his ankle and pull down until his lungs screamed for air. 

But then, the world shifted and he was standing in a dark, cold room. Not only that, but he was wearing standard Clone armor that was freshly-issued white. Not a spec of paint, or blood, or scorching marked the bone colored surface. 

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Hunter called out, his voice echoing. 

When there was no response, he dropped to one knee and pressed his hand against the ground. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the electro-magnetic pulses of his surroundings. Through his mutation, he could determine two things. First, was that he was standing in a corridor that seemed to stretch infinitely in both directions. Second was that he wasn’t alone. There was _something_ standing about a dozen meters in front of him.

On reflex, Hunter reached for a knife that should have been strapped to his thigh but found the sheath empty. His sudden movement triggered the _thing,_ because it began to sprint down the hallway at an impossible speed. There was no sound of footfall, or even breathing, so Hunter had to judge its movements through his mutation. Right as he sensed it in front of him, Hunter braced himself for an impact that never came. 

Confused, Hunter reached out with a trembling hand until it made contact with a door that definitely hadn’t been there a second before. As soon as his hand pressed against the cold metal, the door opened to a large room that was illuminated by one central light. 

Hunter carefully entered the room, looking for anything that might give him a clue as to where the hell he was. _I was on a mission,_ his thoughts were scattered, as they tried to piece together a narrative, _I was separated- but from who?_ Out of nowhere, his foot slipped in a patch of slick, but he managed to regain his balance. Looking down he noticed a thick pool of blood that was in a dragged-pattern towards the darkest corner of the room. Hunter followed the path of blood which led to a body. 

The body was in armor similar to his, but instead of white it was grey and black, with accents of red. The helmet was decorated as well, the visor tinted yellow. There was something familiar about it to Hunter. As he took a tentative step forward, the shape from the corridor appeared between him and the body. Even in the light, it was impossible to discern anything about it, besides the fact it was a shifting mass of darkness in a vaguely humanoid shape. 

“What do you see?” it asked. The voice was distorted but it still triggered something in Hunter. Something that made him fear it, and know that it was going to bring him nothing but pain. 

“Someone is hurt. And… and I think it’s my fault,” Hunter choked out. 

“That’s right, Hunter. It is your fault,” it cooed. “You don’t remember?”

_A compound on a snowy planet. They had split up, and had been ambushed. Radio contact was severed- was anyone still alive? Hunter knew that he shouldn’t have left him alone._

“Oh no. Oh, force, no.” Hunter dropped to his knees. “Tech.”

He felt a cold hand grab his shoulder. “You can still save the others. All you have to do is answer all my questions. Do you understand?”

“I… I don’t know,” Hunter whispered. He knew he shouldn’t trust the voice, but if there was any chance of saving the others, he had to take it. “What-?”

When he turned his head, it was gone. Hunter had no idea how long he sat there, cradling the cold, lifeless body before static filled his comms. It was followed by a panicked, breathless voice. 

“Sarge, where are you at? I’m pinned down- can’t see where this guy is firing from.”

That voice- he knew whose it was, he could have swore, but no name or face came to mind. The weight of the body vanished from his arms and Hunter was now standing across the room from a large mirror. He timidly walked towards it, and when he looked into it the shape was staring back. 

“Where are the Rebel bases located?” it asked. 

“What bases? I don’t know what you're talking about,” Hunter replied. “I came here with others- where are they?”

The shape shook its head, “Wrong answer.” 

It was no longer a mirror, but a window that displayed a dimly lit room identical to the one he was standing in. It was empty, until another of the armor-clad people came stumbling in. They had a large rifle in one hand, and the other was clutching at their abdomen. 

Hunter's eyes widened as a name came to mind, and he immediately started banging on the glass. His hands began to ache under the impact, but no matter how hard he hit, the glass gave no indication of giving in.

“Cross, can you hear me?!” Hunter screamed. 

The shape was standing next to him. “No one else had to die. I promise, you can still save him.”

“Anything, please.” Hunter said, panicked. 

“Answer my question- Where are the Rebel bases?”

Panic starting to set in, Hunter wracked his brain for anything. “I don’t know about any Rebels! But… there’s an insurgency group on Idhis. They use decommissioned GAR outposts as bases. We helped steal munitions for them.”

“What was their goal with the munitions?” 

Hunter couldn’t understand why it felt so wrong to be telling it these things. The insurgents had been kind and paid them well for their troubles. He felt as if he was betraying their trust, but the shape was trying to _help_ him save his friends- right? 

“They’re going to destroy an Imperial factory as soon as they begin production.”

“Interesting,” it said. “But not good enough.” 

“No!” Hunter screamed in protest as blaster bolts streaked from the darkness and hit Crosshair square in the back. “You promised!”

It vanished just as Crosshair hit the ground. But, the window also disappeared, leaving an opening for Hunter to run through. Just as before, he fell next to the body in despair but this time he gingerly removed the helmet. 

Crosshairs eyes were distant, but he turned his head towards Hunter. “Why did you tell him? You can’t tell him anything. You have to remember.” 

“Remember what?” Hunter whispered. “I don’t know what’s happening to me!”

Hunter felt it’s presence, and turned to look up to the shape looming over them. When he looked back down, Crosshair was gone. 

“Cross!” Hunter turned on the shape. “What did you do to him?”

“I am not the perpetrator of their pain Hunter. It is you. It’s always been you.”

“You're lying,” he snapped. “Something is wrong, I know it is. This isn’t real. You’re not real.” 

“Oh, really?” the shape sounded amused. “Then tell me, is _this_ real?”

Something large slammed into Hunter from behind, throwing him across the room. Heading ringing, he stared up to a massive figure looming over him. Hunter tried to scramble away, but it caught him by the front of his chest plate and lifted Hunter into the air. 

Hunter looked down at the helmet of the large person, and noticed something was wrong. The left half of the helmet was partially caved in and charred. Blood was oozing from the cracks, and gore was beginning to leak from underneath the helmets seal. 

“Wrecker?” Hunter gasped, and realized what had happened. 

They were on a mission, and a grenade had detonated mid-air, much too close to the large Clone. He had called in for a medical extraction, but it had been hours before a team arrived and by that point, Wrecker’s eye and most of the hearing in that ear had been lost. The doctors back on Kamino had salvaged as much as they could, but even the best skin graft couldn’t hide the thick web of scars that wrapped around his head. 

“I’m so sorry,” Hunter whispered, and tried to grab Wrecker's hand that was gripping his chest plated. “You didn’t deserve this Wrecker. I’m sorry-”

Wrecker gave an animalist snarl and slammed him into the wall. Hunter’s vision doubled and he heard an audible _crack_ as the armor’s back-plate buckled. 

“Wrecker, stop. It’s me!” He choked out, but that only seemed to enrage Wrecker more. 

Hunter lost track of how many times he was hit against the wall, but when it stopped he was left breathless and bleeding. He felt as if every bone in his body had been shattered and was surprised to still be alive. 

The shape had appeared next to Wrecker, shaking its head in disappointment. “What will it take to get you to corporate?”

With what little movement his position afforded, Hunter instinctively reached towards the sheath on his thigh. To his surprise, there was now a bit of weight there as his knife had reappeared. Hunter drew it in an underhanded grip, and was about to swing forward into Wrecker’s ribcage, going for the left lung. When the blade was millimetres from a gap in the armor, he stopped. 

“No,” Hunter murmured, and changed his grip on the hilt. “I won’t hurt him- but you,” he turned to the shape. “I’m going to kill you.”

He threw the knife with as much force as he could muster, and it sunk in between where the eyes on a normal humanoid would be. But nothing happened. It remained standing there. 

“Hm. Pity,” it said, “Guess we’ll have to start over. Doctor, 10 more ccs, please.” 

_What the hell is he talking about?,_ Hunter thought, _Wait. He. It's the Agent-_

Wrecker reeled back to throw Hunter into the wall once again- a blow that would most definitely kill him. Hunter closed his eyes and tensed for an impact that never came. 

Now, he was laying in something incredibly and unnaturally soft. He sat up in a lush, green meadow surrounded by rolling hills for as far as he could see. Standing up on trembling legs, Hunter began to walk towards the tallest hill. As he waded through the grass that came to his waist, he noticed what at first he thought to be a storm cloud in the distance. But then he caught the faint scent of burning and he realized it was a plume of smoke. Transfixed on the black cloud, he didn’t realize that there was some else there until he crested the hill. 

“Echo?” Hunter exclaimed when the person turned. 

Hunter almost didn’t recognize this version of Echo. It was one that Hunter had never gotten to see. Echo was much younger, his haircut was still painfully in regulations and skin the deep tan of standard Clones. He wore his ARC armor, which fit him well, and both of his hands were still flesh and bone. But what stood out the most to Hunter were his eyes. They were still so bright, as if all the burdens of the past two years had been lifted. 

“Hunter!” Echo said, smiling, and waved him over. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m, um, not sure,” Hunter replied, still staring. “I think something is wrong. You look…”

“Well sit down, you’re stressing me out,” Echo huffed, “And I need to relax. Can you believe it, I just got a new mission assignment. Fives and I _just_ wrapped up a mission on Illiar, and they’re already sending me out again.” 

Frowning, Hunter took a seat on Echo’s right and watched as Echo ran his fingers through the blades of grass, ripping them up by the roots. 

“Briefing says I’m going to the Citadel,” Echo continued, picking up the ripped blades and holding them in his palm for the wind to carry away. “It’s a nasty place. Apparently it was built to hold Jedi,” he scoffed. “Not sure if a place like that can actually exist.”

“I… I don’t think that you should go.” Hunter said. 

Echo laughed. “Me either, but hey, I got to follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders.” 

He didn’t know how to respond, so they sat in silence for a good while as the smoke crept closer and the orange glow of flames became visible. Echo, not seeming too concerned, stood and held out a hand towards Hunter. 

“I should get going. Don’t want to be late.” 

Hunter accepted it and was pulled to his feet. But Echo didn’t release his grip, instead began to squeeze his hand much tighter and his eyes became wide with concern. 

“You can’t forget,” Echo said desperately. 

“What? Forget what?” Hunter asked, and felt something warm begin to press against his back. He turned his head to see that the fire had begun to climb the hill they stood on. “Echo- we have to leave!”

Echo held him in place as the flames grew higher and began to surround them. Hunter tried to wrench out of his grip, but Echo held on with inhuman strength. 

“You have to trust me,” Echo said. “And you can’t forget- we’re coming for you.”

Hunter stopped thrashing. “What?”

“Don’t forget that Hunter!” Echo said as the flames consumed them. 

But, it didn’t hurt. It was a warm, light sensation as the fire wrapped around Hunter and dragged him away from Echo and back into the darkness. _I’ll remember. I know that you’ll get me out of here,_ was Hunter’s last thought before he hit the ground with a thud. 

No, it wasn’t the ground, but a training mat. Hunter’s eyes flew open and he looked up to Cody standing over him, head cocked. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, um, I’m good,” Hunter said between breaths, and got to his feet. He didn’t know why he felt so shaky, or why he felt as if he was forgetting something _very_ important. 

_Weird._

Cody was watching him carefully, twirling a blunt knife between his fingers. “That was fine, but you need to keep your weight centered, otherwise anything is going to be able to off balance you.”

Hunter nodded, but was distracted by trying to remember just why he was so upset. But Cody was right, he needed to focus. So, he brought his knife up and stepped forward- and they began to spar. 

…

Four Clones stood in a half circle around a bruised and unconscious Rodian, who was tied to a chair. It was quiet, except for the hum of the Engines and the occasional cry of the cat as it circled around their legs, wanting to be picked up.

“So what now?” Crosshair asked, breaking the silence. 

“Um, to be honest, my plan didn’t make it this far,” Echo replied, nudging Nylo with his foot. “I was more focused on not dying.” 

The Rodian didn’t stir. 

The Batch had made it back to their ship just as sirens had started to sound in the distance, and had quickly jumped into hyper-space. The coordinates they had punched in took them to nowhere in particular as they waited for Nylo to wake. 

“So you thought to shove him down a trash chute, but not how to get him to tell us Grimbol’s location?”

“Fine, if it's so easy then what’s your brilliant plan?”

“Let’s go back to the _original_ plan of throwing him out a window,” Wrecker chimed in.

“We’re in space!” Crosshair scoffed. 

Wrecker shrugged. “I’ll settle for the airlock.”

“How about we do a little ‘good trooper, bad trooper’? We’ll say we’re going to throw him out the airlock, but then I’ll swoop in and save him, thus gaining his trust.” Tech said smartly. 

“So I _do_ get to airlock him?” Wrecker said, looking confused. 

“No, you’ll just say that you’re going to,” Tech replied.

“Then not do it?”

“Yes.”

“When I say I’m going to airlock someone, I follow through,” Wrecker huffed. 

Echo buried his face in his palm. “There will be no airlocking anyone.”

“Hang on, they might be onto something,” Crosshair said thoughtfully, “But we need to be more direct. If I shoot him through the foot-.” 

The conversation quickly dissolved into loud arguing between all four Clones. It became so passionate that nobody except Putty the cat noticed when Nylo began to stir. 

“Wha- what happened?” Nylo said weakly, vision clearing to four familiar looking figures. 

“I’m not saying all of his limbs,” the really large one yelled, “Just enough to get him to cooperate.” 

Nylo’s one good eye (the other being swollen shut) went wide and he yelped, involuntary kicking backwards and tipping the chair over. He looked up to four faces peering down at him, the same scowl etched on each unique face. 

“Airlock?” Wrecker asked hopefully. 

“No.” Echo said sternly, grabbing the back of the chair and pulling Nylo upright. 

“Where am I?” Nylo said, then something familiar caught his eye, “Is that Putty?”

Putty chirped happily at her name, then jumped onto his lap and headbutted his chin. Nylo blinked a few times, and hazy memories came rushing back. Strangers breaking into his apartment, getting shoved out a window then punched in the face, waking up in a van, getting hit for a second time. Now, all four of the faces involved were standing before him. 

“Hang on- you’re the assholes that broke into my apartment!” Nylo shouted, “You kidnapped me? And my cat!”

“Excuse you, we rescued your cat,” Wrecker said snidely. 

“How did you even find me?!” 

“A bit of advice, mate- don’t piss of Ka’vah,” Crosshair said, crossing his arms. “Or us, for that matter.”

“I don’t even know who you jerks are,” Nylo huffed, “But whatever Ka’vah is offering to pay you, I’ll double it.” 

“Sorry, it gets a bit more personal than that,” Echo said, “You got all us involved in Imperial business, and now one of our friends is missing. And you're the only way to get him back. So you’re going to tell us what you know about the ISB, or we’re handing you over to Ka’vah.” Echo caught the flash of fear in Nylo’s eye at the mention of the Togruta’s name. “And she had some pretty unpleasant ideas about how to deal with you… what was it she said again?”

“Something about hot sauce and a Sarlacc pit?” Tech said helpfully. 

“What if I pay you triple?!” Nylo said. “Because if I tell you what I know about the ISB, I’m dead either way.”

“Oh, if you don’t start talking, you won’t have to worry about Ka’vah or the Empire,” Crosshair growled darkly, “Because I’ll put a hole between your eyes faster than you can grovel for your life.” 

Nylo stared at the ground, obviously trying to think of his next play. Echo just hoped that Cross’s gamble worked. All their cards were on the table now, and if Nylo decided to keep quiet, there wasn’t far you could escalate from a cold-blooded execution. 

“What do I get?” Nylo said, seeming to have found his nerve. 

“Um, we don’t kill you?” Wrecker said. 

Nylo rolled his eyes. “Besides that. Let’s say I tell you all I know- what do I get out this deal? What insurance do I get?”

Tech reached into the bag that Echo had grabbed from the apartment and held up one of the datapads. “For starters, you can get these back. I’m assuming encrypted skiffs will all your clients' records are valuable enough?” 

“And, you have my word that we’ll drop you- and your cat- on the planet of your choosing, unharmed.” Echo said. 

“One more thing,” Nylo said. 

“A bit demanding, aren’t we?” Crosshair muttered, crossing his arms. 

“What?” Echo said, glaring at Crosshair who shot him an even darker look back. 

“You tell Ka’vah that you killed me,” Nylo said. “At least that’ll be one less person after me.”

“Wait a moment, who's to say that you don’t go crying to the Empire as soon as we let you go?” Crosshair asked. “You sold us out to them once before.”

“Cross has a point,” Tech said. 

“Because I’m assuming that you’re going to use whatever information I give you to make the Empire have a very unpleasant day. It won’t take much deductive thought to figure out whom their source is,” Nylo said. “So going to them would be like signing my own death warrant.”

“Good enough for me. You have a deal,” Echo said. “But, if you lie to us, and we’ll know if you do, all terms go out the airlock. With you.”

Wrecker nodded eagerly. “I haven’t gotten to airlock anyone in… weeks.”

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

“What information did you pass onto the ISB?” Echo asked. “And what do they know about Clones that defected?”

“When I was _recruited,”_ Nylo would have made air quotes around the word “recruited” if he could move his hands. “To pass along information to the ISB, it was always about odd things. But that’s my specialty. Items for sale, scavenging locations, rumors about whereabouts, that sort of deal.”

“Wait- what sort of items?” Tech said, sounding more interested than before, which Echo found to be a bit off. 

“They really wanted Jedi relics, which are extremely difficult to come by,” Nylo said, “But when I couldn’t turn up anything, then they became focused on setting up mercenary missions through proxies. Like through Ka’vah, for example.” 

“So you told the Empire about her?” Wrecker said, eyes narrowing and looking past Nylo to the airlock chamber.

“No! I mean, they know _of_ her,” Nylo said quickly. “They know there is a Togruta out there who likes to make things difficult for the Empire, but nobody is dumb enough to straight-up double cross her like that. We criminals do have a code of conduct, you know.”

“So why use her as the proxy?”

“They wanted a specific group to run the mission, and I knew that Ka’vah was their, well, your handler. And they never said anything about Clones.” 

“And by ‘they’, you mean Agent Grimbol?”

“Yeah, he’s a real piece of work,” Nylo laughed nervously. “Is he the one who has your friend? Look, he’s probably de-.”

“No,” Echo snapped. “No, he’s not. What do you know about Grimbol?”

Nylo sighed. “That I can help you with. When I have to deal with people like him, I like to keep a bit of insurance on hand, just in case. But even with my resources, I could only dig up a few scraps of information on him.” 

“Like?”

“Don’t rush my exposition!” Nylo shot back and he took a second to compose himself. “As I was saying, I could only dig up a few things on Grimbol. Before the Empire, he worked as a civilian contractor for a security company which seemed to have pretty close ties with the Separatists.” 

“Figures.” Crosshair said. 

“Then, once the Empire was formed, he couldn’t join fast enough,” Nylo continued. “From there, he crawled through the ranks pretty quickly, which is surprising since all his colleagues hate him.”

“How come?” Tech asked. 

“Grimbol is paranoid, chases any conspiracy that he sees. So I think the higher ups will throw funding his way to shut him up, let him do his own thing.”

“But why tolerate it at all?” Crosshair said. “I thought the Imperial equivalent of a demotion was a firing squad.”

“Oh, I’m sure they were about to,” Nylo said, “But about a year ago, Grimbol actually found a Jedi that had been in hiding. Managed to capture them, bring them in. It solidified his career.”

“Who was it?” Echo said, not knowing if he even wanted to know the answer. 

“Not sure, I couldn’t access the full file,” Nylo said. 

“Maybe you can’t,” Tech replied, giving Echo a nod, “I just need five minutes at an Imperial server.” 

“Good luck,” Nylo smirked. “While you're there, look up ‘Project Shrike’. I think you’ll find it enlightening.” 

“What is it?” 

“I think I’ve said enough to hold up my end of the bargain,” Nylo said. “Now, if you’ll drop me off somewhere civilized and tropical, I’ll be on my way.” 

“Hold up, I have one last question,” Echo said and Nylo gave a theatrical groan. “Where are Grimbol’s headquarters?” 

“What do I look like, a recon droid?” Nylo scoffed. 

“You look like a dead man to me,” Crosshair snarled. 

“Fine! I don’t know about a headquarters, but I know they gave that jackass his own ship. Every time I’ve had to report to him in person, it was in orbit around a planet named Rheoshar.”

“Why do I know that name?” Echo said. 

“Isn’t that planet that has hundreds of orbital defense cannons?” Crosshair asked. 

“That's right,” Tech said. “During the war, they wanted to stay neutral so they built as many cannons as possible to shoot anyone out of the sky, regardless of their side. A lot of good that did them when the Empire took over.”

“Sounds like my kind of planet,” Wrecker sounded impressed. 

Echo began to pace, “How good do you think the security for those cannons are?”

“Judging on when they were built, I would say that their physical security is pretty tight. But remote access? I could probably have control of one in,” Tech did a quick calculation in his head. “Half an hour? If we want to remain undetected, a full hour. It won’t be easy” 

“Grimbol stays in orbit around Rheoshar knowing that if someone tries to attack, they can use the orbital cannons as a secondary defense,” Echo said. “But why? They almost shot us out of the sky in a matter of seconds. He’s worried about something, even though they have superior weaponry.”

“Shielding!” Crosshair burst out, “They can pack a punch, but can’t take a hit.”

Tech nodded in agreement. “That ship picked up our comm-channel in a heartbeat, but to do that they would have had to have no external interference. And the shields around a ship that large can cause that type of distortion.”

“And if they’re a spy-ship, that would be one of their objectives while sitting in orbit. Just scanning for enemy transmissions.” Echo said. 

“So we get a cannon and shoot them out of the sky,” Wrecker said. “Easy.”

“Not if Hunter is on the ship, we can’t,” Echo replied. “But that gives us a way in. And, if we're lucky, a way out.”

Crosshair grinned. “I like where this is going.” 

“Let's get-” Echo started to say. 

“Excuse me!” Nylo interjected. 

“Fine. Let’s drop this idiot- and his cat- off. Then let's get Hunter back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so excited to finally share this! I commissioned an artist over on Tumblr to design Ka’vah, so check that out!
> 
> https://washingtonvasnormandy.tumblr.com/post/630169128806809600/ive-had-nothing-but-star-wars-on-the-brain-since
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and commenting!


	7. No Light

Even before joining the Bad Batch, Echo had never been able to sleep very well before a mission. When he was still with the 501st, he kept himself busy on the transports to battle by mindlessly scrolling through manuals. He wasn’t even trying to memorize the content- it was the only way he could get his mind off of the blaster fire and blood that was to come. 

Now, as Echo settled in his bunk, his thoughts immediately began to race though every conceivable plan- and just how horribly they could all go wrong. They had gotten lucky extracting Nylo from that apartment building, but an Imperial Destroyer? One wrong move, one miscalculated step, and they were dead. After too long a period of agonizing  _ thinking,  _ Echo let out an aggravated groan and rolled onto his side. 

_ I just need some rest,  _ Echo thought, closing his eyes.  _ A few good hours, and I’ll figure this out.  _

He eventually felt himself nod off and settled into a light doze. It didn’t last as he was jarred awake at the sound of something heavy being dropped in the next room. The impact was followed by a muffled shout, but then quiet once again. Echo checked the time. Only ten minutes had passed.  __

_ You’ve got to be kidding me.  _ Echo rolled onto his other side and placed the pillow over his head.

The problem was that facing outboard wasn’t any less distracting. A few months back, as retaliation for a prank, Wrecker had snuck into the room Tech and Echo shared and plastered the walls with pin-up posters. Tech, who preferred to keep their living space neat and minimalist, lost it. He programmed the shower to only run cold water until all the posters came down. Reluctantly, Wrecker tried to remove them, but to everyone's horror, he had accidentally used an industrial-grade paste. It took a scraper, paint disolvent, and about an hour of work to even remove one poster. In the end, a few hard to reach posters remained- including one particularly raunchy Twi’lek that was eye-level with Echo’s bunk. Even when his eyes were closed, Echo felt as if the poster were staring him down. 

As a last resort, Echo laid straight on his back and stared at the blank ceiling. Sleeping that way made him feel slightly claustrophobic and brought back memories of the sleeping tubes on Kamino. Eventually, his thoughts returned to planning. The repetition and the stress managed to lull him back to sleep. 

Echo slowly blinked awake and grimaced, realizing what had awoken him. A horrible aching sensation had formed in his lower back and began to seep down through his legs. He wasn’t sure if it was caused by the fall down the elevator shaft or the fight that ensued, but he knew for a fact that there was no chance he was getting any rest. 

Echo glanced at the clock once again-  _ Thirty lousy minutes. Well, it's better than nothing I guess.  _

With a great deal of effort, he sat up and swung out of his bunk. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he had to grab hold of the bed frame for support. Trying to steady himself on sore legs, Echo took a deep breath to compose himself. 

_ There are bigger things to worry about,  _ Echo tried to rationalize.  _ I can’t afford for them to fuss over me.  _

So, he put on a straight face and walked out to the common area. Tech was at his normal spot at the workbench, hunched over a crude sketch and a few mechanical components. Wrecker, who never seemed to have issues sleeping, was snoring away on the adjacent couch. Echo assumed that Crosshair was still in the pilot's seat. He hadn’t left the cockpit since dropping Nylo off on a dusty industrial planet (and convincing Wrecker to return the cat). 

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Tech asked, not looking up from the part he was wrenching on.

“I can’t with that creepy Twi’lek poster - I swear it's watching me.” Echo mused, sitting down on the small area on the couch that Wrecker wasn’t taking up with his massive form. “And I should ask you the same question.” 

“There's still fifteen hours until we reach Rheoshar,” Tech said with a shrug. “And I have more important things to do.”

“Like getting us access to those orbital cannons?”

“Oh, I finished that an hour ago. It was actually a simple back-door program that-” he broke off when Echo nodded slowly, seeming in agreeance with what Tech was saying. “You know I find it very amusing when you all try to understand what it is I do.”

“That’s not fair! I understand most of it,” Echo protested. Tech shot him an unconvinced look. “Fine. Some of it... at least more than Wrecker.”

“That's a low bar. At least you know more than Cross.” 

“But it’s going to work?” 

“All we have to do is get into range.”

“Back to the waiting game.” Echo sighed, and adjusted a throw pillow behind his back in hopes to alleviate some of the ache. “So, what are you working on?”

“A surprise. For you, actually,” Tech replied, sounding almost embarrassed. 

“Oh?” 

“I’ve been meaning to work on upgrades for your prosthetics, now that we have basic functionality down. Some things that may help out in combat, or in more extreme environments.”

“The ones I have now work great for jumping out of windows and falling down elevator shafts,” Echo pointed out. 

Tech laughed. “When I couldn’t sleep, I picked up an old design and started to troubleshoot the primary issue. How not to add any extra weight? And how to not compromise the rigidity. And how- actually, there were a lot of issues. But I think I figured it out!”

Echo felt a warmth spread through his chest at how proud Tech sounded, and for working on something intended for him. “What’s the upgrade?”

“You’re gonna love it. It’s-”

The door to the cockpit slid open and a very tired looking Crosshair walked through, holding up a data-chip. “Mark this down as another favor we owe Ka’vah.”

Wrecker  _ immediately  _ awoke and shot up at the mention of the Togruta’s name. “What about Ka’vah?”

Crosshair rolled his eyes and threw the chip at Tech, who caught it midair and inserted it into his datapad. He pulled up a holo of what appeared to be blueprints of a ship, and was marked top to bottom with Imperial symbols. 

“Are those for the  _ Contrivance? _ ” Wrecker gasped. 

“Sure are,” Crosshair replied. “And before you ask- all the attached message said was that she had to pull a lot of strings to get these. And a wish good luck.”

“That's sweet of her,” Wrecker said. 

“Her actual words were ‘don’t die, you boys still owe me a lot of credits.’ But I took that to mean ‘good luck’.”

“Oh.”

“Hate to be the bringer of bad news,” Tech interrupted. “But these aren’t the final blueprints. See this mark,” he pointed to a series of blue lettering at the lower right corner. “That means these are revision three or four.”

“Well, how many revisions are there usually?” Echo frowned. 

“For an Imperial spy-ship? I would guess at the very least- thirty-five.”

Crosshair scoffed, “So they’re no good.”

“It's better than nothing,” Echo said. “We can at least find the best access route-,” 

He stood to get a closer look at the holo, but the sudden movement caused a spasm through his right leg. He bit his lip to stop the gasp of pain from escaping, and lurched forward to grab the edge of the table. The three other Clones were immediately at his side. 

“Are you alright?” Crosshair said, putting an uncertain hand on his shoulder. 

“Oh, just fine,” Echo said through gritted teeth. “Just give me a minute.”

He closed his eyes- as if it would block out the pain.  _ This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. We’re so close to getting Hunter back- I can’t have them worrying about me. I’m fine. I have to be fine.  _

Echo looked up at the group, all of whom had the same look of concern etched across their face.

“The dimensioning of the hull couldn’t have changed too much, right? We can use these blueprints to find a blind spot, or least somewhere we can land. Once inside, all we need to do is access a data terminal and locate Hunter.” 

“Erm,” Wrecker said awkwardly, “Are you-?”

“I’m fine,” Echo snapped. “I doubt that we can get very far before being detected-”

“Why haven’t you said anything?” Tech chided, “If it’s an issue with a nerve sensor-” 

“Because we have more important things to worry about!” Echo yelled, and immediately grimaced as the room settled into an uncomfortable silence. “I’m sorry. But I promise- I’m fine.”

“Funny, I could have sworn you almost collapsed just a second ago. My mistake,” Crosshair said sarcastically. 

“You’re… you’re right,” Echo sighed, sitting back down on the couch. “But this is our last chance to get Hunter back. And-” he paused, reluctant to share part of the story he left out. “When I fought that ISB agent in the elevator, she said ‘there’s not much left of him.’ And I, I don’t know what that means, but-” 

“Echo, she was probably just trying to get under your skin,” Crosshair said. 

“And if this really is our last chance to get him back, you’re going to need to be at your best,” Tech said. “So why don’t you take some painkillers, and I’ll take a look at the sensors- see if that's the issue.”

“That's okay-”

“Oh, I’ll go make some hot chocolate!” Wrecker said suddenly and, before Echo could agree, headed towards the kitchen. 

Crosshair gave an exhausted sigh, “And I’ll supervise Wrecker, I guess.” 

Tech retrieved a repair kit and began sorting through wiring in the right leg. Echo was quiet through the process, and felt a sharp stab a sensor was jostled out of place. 

“There!” Tech said, “That sensor was misaligned. Feel any difference?”

“Much better. Thank you,” Echo lied. It had helped relieve some of the cramped feeling in the leg, but his entire back was still sore. 

A few minutes later, Crosshair and Wrecker returned carrying cups.

“Heads up,” Crosshair said and threw a small pill packet at Echo. 

Catching it, Echo washed the pill down with the overly sweet coco. Once all the cups were distributed, they sat on the couch in silence for a good half hour. Echo began to thankfully feel the effects of the painkillers, but resented the grogginess that came with it. 

Wrecker spoke up first. “Can’t figure out how exactly I’m going to kill Grimbol. Wringing his neck would be fun, but so would be putting his fat head in my rifle sights.”

“We don’t know what Grimbol looks like,” Tech pointed out. 

“And our first priority is still getting Hunter out.” Echo said, “But your right, if we can take Grimbol out, that’s one less person on our trail.” 

“I call dibs,” Wrecker said. 

“No, we have to go through the proper ‘dibs’ process,” Tech corrected, pointing to a whiteboard with various tally marks in different colors and columns. “The rules of the board say that the person with the least amount of current ‘dibs’ called may override the current ‘dibs’ caller.”

“Why do we have these stupid rules?”

“Because you kept calling ‘dibs’ for the front seat of the shuttle,” Crosshair shot back, “And some of us would like a little leg room once and awhile.” 

“How about whoever sees him first gets to take him out?” Tech suggested. 

“Sounds good to me,” Echo said. “But that gives me an idea. We need to give that destroyer something more important than four intruders to worry about. Do you think you could whip something up Wrecker?”

The large Clone grinned wildly and his eyes darted to one of the crates shoved into the corner that was labeled  _ Wreckers Explosives- Do Not Touch _ . “Oh, I think I can figure something out.” 

“Then I have an idea,” Echo said, “It’s going to be hell to pull off, but I know we can do it.”

As Echo began to detail his plan, coming together like a puzzle with no edges, he realized just how lucky he was to have a team- well, a family like the Bad Batch. The reason why Echo was having such a hard time coming up with a plan was because they were missing the central piece. But he would be damned if they came back empty handed. 

...

As Grimbol watched drops of blue liquid trickle slowly through the IV tubing, he had a realization. Since his promotion to the ISB, every day had been filled with the monotony, annoyance, and unstimulating ins-and-outs of office politics. But now, he once again had a purpose- besides protected the Empire from the threat of rebellion, of course. The corners of his lips curled ever so slightly as the Clone’s body seized in pain. Grimbol felt nothing but elation. 

The doctor in attendance, a slight human whose light hair was pulled up into a tight bun, turned to Grimbol. “He’s ready, sir. But you should know that the scans are-”

Grimbol waved his hand in dismissal. “No matter, just stand by.” 

He crouched next to the gurney that the Clone was strapped down onto, taking a moment to study the dark lines of the tattoo. He hadn’t paid much attention to it before- just a silly war tradition- but Grimbol could now tell that a great amount of time had gone into making sure the pigmiting and shading had come out just right. _ Interesting _ .

Leaning in so he was right next to the Clones ear, Grimbol gently said. “Now, Hunter, tell me what you see.” 

It muttered something incoherent and started to thrash its head side to side. Grimbol sighed and placed a calming hand on its forehead- noting the heat radiating from the skin, most likely caused by a high grade fever. The Clone instantly relaxed at the touch.

“What do you see? Where are you?” Grimbol tried again.

“Ukkora…” 

Grimbol nodded, “Whats on Ukkora?”

“No! Don’t go in-,” The Clone dissolved into non-coherent babbling.

Grimbol rolled his eyes and pulled his hand away. It seemed that every round of injections resulted in less and less information. The initial round had been a major success, getting a dozen names and locations of possible rebel activities. Grimbol had become rather adept over the past few days of steering the Clones' hallucinations into the direction he wanted, by now it was harder to get useful information instead of a nervous breakdown. 

Just as he was about to give it another shot, the door to the interrogation room opened and the Commander stepped in. 

“Sir, reporting-” The Commander broke off suddenly. 

Grimbol turned to see him staring at the gurney. The helmeted head tilted slightly, as if he were contemplating something. 

“Commander?” Grimbol cleared his throat, but the Commander still didn’t respond. He felt that persistent annoyance begin to creep back in, but he was determined not to let his good mood be spoiled. “Commander!” 

The helmet snapped back to him. “Sir, the scouting reports from Idhis indicate that there is some type of operation being run out of an old GAR outpost.”

“So the intel is good,” Grimbol said with a grin, “Excellent. Send a squad to clear the base out- I’m not in the mood to be receiving any more prisoners at the moment.” 

“Sir, we’re unsure of the number of people involved. If we brought them in-”

“Negative, Commander. We have much more pressing matters than a few insurgent factory workers.” Grimbol opened a datapad and scrolled down a long list of names, planets, and what seemed to be code phrases. “All these leads would take a dozen agents  _ months _ to track down, but I’ve managed to obtain it in a matter of days, thanks to this one.” He patted the Clone on the cheek fondly. “I want to double efforts to locate the rest of it’s crew. Just imagine how much more information we’ll gain once we capture them.”

The Commander didn’t respond, instead turning his gaze back to the gurney. It had gone unnaturally still, the only of indicication of life was the ever so slight rise and fall of the chest. 

“Commander.”

“Yes sir, I’ll prepare a squad right away. We’ll start the search in the Kino sector, focusing on any GAR connections. I have a feeling they’ll lay low somewhere they’re comfortable.”

“Very good. Oh, and put an Agent on a Beona. That seemed like a promising lead,” Grimbol reached out and clasped the Commanders shoulder, “Who knows, maybe by this time next week we’ll have ourselves another Jedi.” He paused. “Now that I think about it, what a rare thing- the two of us here, working together.”

“I'm not sure that I understand…” 

“Two people who have actually killed a Jedi, in the same room. Few people can claim that honor.” 

For the first time since the Commander had been assigned to under his command, Grimbol heard an inflection of emotion in his voice. “Yes sir. An honor.” 

“Um, I’m sorry to interrupt,” the doctor said suddenly, holding up from her datapad, “But I’m afraid you won’t have much more to get from him.” 

Grimbol dropped his hand and turned to stare her down. “What could you possibly mean by that?”

“As I was trying to tell you earlier, Agent Grimbol, scans are indicating that his body is beginning to shut down. Between the stress, fatigue, the physical aspect, and now these drugs- there's only so much one person can take- however genetically engineered they are.” 

“You’re the doctor,” Grimbol snapped. “Just put him in a bacta tank-”

“It doesn’t work like that. Even if we disconnect him from the IV drip, there’s no guarantee that the drug will purge from his body before it kills him. My supervisor warned you that it was still in the experimental phase…” the Doctor nodded towards the Clone. “This is the longest anything has ever survived. Most die after a few hours, so the fact he’s survived days is quite incredible.” 

And just like that, Grimbol’s good mood was gone. “Pity. But I suppose it served its purpose. We’ll try and get any remaining information, and then it’ll be terminated. See to that as well, Commander.” 

For the third time, the Commander didn’t respond. Already beyond irritated, Grimbol grabbed the armored shoulder pauldron. He caught the Commander off guard, because the Agent was able to shove him far enough back to hit the wall. 

“When I give you an order,” Grimbol snarled. “I expect a ‘yes, sir’. Got it?”

Under the trooper armor, the Commander’s muscles coiled as if he were about to strike. And in that moment, Grimbol felt a twinge of fear. He had seen the Commander in action before, and knew he wouldn’t want to be on the other side of that rage. But in the end it was irrational- Grimbol was the superior officer, and the Commander would not dare strike him. To do so would be unthinkable- and Grimbol was right. After a few seconds, the Commander's body seemed to mechanically relax. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“If you need me, I'll be in my office sending reports to Command. I’m sure they’ll appreciate this list- and perhaps they’ll show their gratitude in the form of a promotion?”

“Perhaps. Sir.” 

Grimbol went back over to the gurney and gave the tattoo one last look. “Sweet dreams- I’ll be back soon enough.” 

The Clone began to writhe, and hoarsely called out a name. It was one that it had cried for many times, and Grimbol almost pitied it. What was once a warrior was now reduced to shouting the names of the dead, as if it would make any difference.

Grimbol left the room, not sparing it a second look, and didn’t bother to wipe the blood from his hand as he began to type his report. 

…

“There it is,” Crosshair said, not bothering to hide the vitriol in his voice at the sight of the Imperial destroyer. “Can’t wait to turn it into scrap metal.” 

The Bad Batch had left their ship on one of Rheoshar’s moons and opted to take the shuttle, hoping a smaller target would be harder to track. From there, they began to slowly trail behind a meteor to use as a shield against the  _ Contreivence’s  _ scanners. It had taken two long hours, but they finally inched into sight of the destroyer and within range of the orbital cannons. 

Every second that had ticked by was more unbearable than the last for Echo. Although Tech’s checkup had helped, the pain returned Echo’s right leg. So as the plan started, he was forced to stay seated as Crosshair and Wrecker moved around the small space. The pair began to get various systems and equipment ready for the maneuver . 

“Five minutes until we’re in range,” Tech said nervously from the helm. Echo noticed the slight tremble in his hand as he brought up the codes for the orbital cannon. 

Echo lowered his voice, hoping that the two other Clones couldn’t hear from the back of the shuttle. Or if they could, that they would be polite enough to ignore it. “Hey. It’s going to be alright. You’ve got this.”

Tech shot him a nervous look. “The timing has to be down the  _ millisecond,  _ or they’re going to know we’re here. Not only that, but I have to hit a target the size of a dartboard by remotely controlling a cannon from 30 miles away, using a backdoor system that has been known to, on occasion, crash. That chances of me actually getting this right are only-.”

“A hundred percent,” Echo said sternly. “Because I trust you. And Hunter trusts you, okay?”

“Okay,” Tech said, exhaling shakily. He shot Echo a weak smile. “How’s the upgrade feeling?”

Echo wiggled his mechanical fingers, still getting used to the slight weight at his forearm. 

“Great. Can’t wait to try it out.”

“Remember, it’s still in the design phase. You’ll get one, maybe two charges out of it until I figure out how to install a re-loading system.”

“Oi, you two ready up there?” Wrecker called out, shoving the last of his equipment into his pack. 

“Yes. I’m ready,” Tech said, a new confidence ringing in his voice. “As soon as we make contact you have to hit that deadman switch.”

“Got it,” Wrecker responded, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to a small control panel. “Hit the ship, hit the button.” 

“Close enough. Cross?” 

“I’m good,” Crosshair grumbled, sliding into the co-pilot seat. “Still think you should let me shoot.” 

“In your dreams,” Tech scoffed. “You’d crash the system in a second- probably use a delta algorithm instead of an RZ-binary code.” He chuckled to himself, as if he made a clever joke. 

Echo shot Crosshair a confused look, and the sniper just shrugged. 

“Alright, 30 seconds,” Echo exhaled, strapping himself into his seat. “Let's do this.” 

Echo wasn’t religious, or particularly spiritual- he just considered himself lucky (or unlucky, depending on the day). But in that moment, he closed his eyes and prayed to the Force.  _ Please- I can’t lose another brother.  _

“Establishing uplink to cannon HA-17,” Tech muttered to himself, his hands dancing across the screen. “Sorry, your decade old security isn’t going to hold up…” the screens flashed red, and Tech grinned. “Got it! Changing cannon trajectory to mark 0.034 at 20 degrees.”

“Wait,” Crosshair said, pointing to the image of the cannon that had appeared on the left screen. “Is that the orbital cannon?”

“Not now, Cross.”

“Redirect to 20.4 degrees.”

“That’ll put me too high,” Tech said between gritted teeth. “My calculations-”

“Are going to be off. The recoil dampers on a weapon that large are going to cause a slight downwards force. You’re going to have to aim high.”

“And you’re telling me this now!”

“I thought you would already have calculated for it! And I didn’t realize that there were going to be dampers, or else I would have said something, idiot!”

“Tech,” Echo interjected. “It’s your call.”

His eyes went wide behind his goggles, moving between the screen and Crosshair. The loading screen was at 95% charged. 

“Tech-y, I’ve shot thousands of weapons. Trust me on this- you’re going to want to aim high.” 

“Changing trajectory to mark 0.035 at 20.4 degrees,” Tech said with a wince. “Firing.”

For a second, nothing happened. Then, a beam of intense white light shot from the green surface of Rheoshar directly towards the  _ Contrivance.  _

“Go!” Tech yelled and Crosshair slammed the throttle all the way down and the shuttle lurched forward directly towards the beam. 

Tech had deduced they could use the blast from the cannon to hide their approach to the destroyer, but would involve getting dangerously close in order to cause the right amount of interference. Echo involuntarily dug his nails into the seat and winced as, at the last second, Crosshair jerked the controls up and the shuttle banked 90 degrees. The shuttle began to run parallel with the cannon’s beam until they came within a couple meters of the grey metal of the  _ Contrivance.  _

“Out and down,” Tech commanded, and the shuttle swerved down, coming up underneath the destroyer as the cannon blast continued its trajectory. 

“Where did it hit?” Echo asked, fighting back nausea as the shuttle rolled to avoid a chunk of debris. 

“I did it!” Tech shouted, pumping his fist in the air. “I mean- we! You were right Cross. 20.4 right on the money. Their radar and transmission equipment is no longer attached.”

“Wrecker, get ready back there,” Crosshair said, nosing the shuttle upwards. There was a  _ thud  _ as the bottom of the shuttle attached to the exterior of the destroyer. He engaged the magnetic lock, then shouted. “Now!”

Wrecker’s large fist slammed three buttons at once, killing all systems except the two that kept the lock engaged and minimal life support. The shuttle was engulfed in darkness and Echo slid his helmet on. He looked around to the rest of the Batch, who were also frozen in place. They waited a beat, then two. After a minute of waiting to be shot down by a TIE, they collectively released their breath. 

“Did we actually just pull that off?” Crosshair chuckled. 

“That- there was only a 1.48 percent chance of a successful maneuver,” Tech said, dumbstruck. “And we did it.”

“You’re welcome.” Wrecker said. 

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Echo said. “Remember- no matter what, we’re not splitting up. And Hunter is our first priority.”

“Followed very shortly by putting a few bolts in Grimbol’s back,” Crosshair darkly added. 

Echo unbuckled and, since artificial gravity disengaged, swung out of his seat. He quickly grabbed his pack and pushed off the wall to reach the airlock door. It opened to the metal exterior of the ship, but Tech sideled next to him with two torches in hand. They made quick work of cutting a hole through the bulkhead and once they were finished, Wrecker grabbed the still-hot metal and pushed it to the side. 

_ Here we go. Into the abyss.  _

Drawing his pistol, Echo pulled himself through the crude entryway. He felt his ears pop at the pressure difference between the shuttle and the interior of the destroyer. Alarms were blaring across the PA system, and he could hear the heavy foot fall of multiple boots running down the hallway in haste. And as his helmet adjusted to the dark, Echo looked around to rows and rows of boxes. 

“A small issue,” Echo whispered as the rest of the Batch pulled themselves up. “I don’t think this is the server room.”

Tech pointed to the small interface panel and went to work, pulling off the screen to the exposed wires. Wrecker and Crosshair readied their weapons, aiming at the door in the event of any unexpected guests. 

“We’re two hallways down from the server room,” Tech said. “But that is not the only problem.”

“Great.” Crosshair muttered. 

“They’ve started lock-down protocols, and that includes sweeping all terminals for unauthorized access. And I don’t have enough time to spoof a code that’s going to hold up against any real scrutiny.”

“So?” Wrecker said.

“So, unless I unplug now, they’re going to know we're here sooner rather than later.” 

“Do you have time to access security feeds?”

Tech’s answer was grabbing a fist full of cables and ripping them from the datapad. 

“So, we’re running for it?” Wrecker asked. 

“We don’t have much of a choice,” Tech said. 

“So much for stealth,” Crosshair scoffed. 

“We knew that coming in,” Echo said, “And I’m done hiding.” 

Suddenly a new, higher pitch alarm rang down the corridors. A voice began to screech through the PA system.  _ Security breach, Sector 3. Report to your security station- lockdown protocol Gamma.  _

“That's our cue,” Echo pried the door open and charged out into the labyrinth of hallways. 

The group of four began to sprint down the corridor, and didn’t make it very far before they heard a shout of  _ There they are- blast them!  _

“This’ll slow ‘em down,” Wrecker said as blaster bolts streaked by their heads, pulling a grenade and then the pin, tossing it over his shoulder. 

It bounced one, twice, three times before detonating. The screams of those unlucky enough to get caught in the blast echoed down the corridor. 

“Right!” Tech called out when they came to a split in the hallway. 

Echo stopped, letting the three others run past him and began firing at the troopers that survived the blast. He took them down with ruthless efficiency- a shot to the helmet or center mass. As he ran to catch up, he noticed that the adrenaline rush had effectively numbed the pain in his leg. 

_ See- I’ve got this. No problem- _ , Echo thought as he found the rest of the batch at a four way intersection. 

“Which way now?” Wrecker asked, raising his rifle to take a shot at a pair of storm troopers that rounded the corner. 

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Tech said, “We should be at the server room!”

“We need to move,” Echo said, “Keep going straight.”

He took a step forward, which put him over the threshold of a blast door. And if he were paying closer attention, Echo would have noticed that a light on the door’s control panel switch from green to red with a faint beep. 

“Wait!” Crosshair shouted and lunged forward. 

But it was too late- the blast doors slammed shut and sealed Echo from the rest of the group. 

“Tech, do you copy? I need these doors open, now!” he shouted into his comm. 

When no reply came, Echo’s heart began to race.  _ The one thing I said was to not split up! _ He thought, and was about to start working on the controls himself when the door to his left slid open. 

“Well. This certainly is a pleasant surprise.” 

A chill raced down Echo’s spine at the familiarity of the voice and he spun around to face a rather unassuming human. The man was average height and had plain features, but there was still something undoubtedly sinister behind his dark eyes. The Imperial uniform he donned was crisp and formal, even going as far as to wear leather gloves. Clutched in his right hand was a device that Echo recognized to contain the EMP blast grenade. 

“I’ve been so looking forward to our meeting,” Agent Grimbol said with a grin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rolls up a week late with Starbucks* Sup?  
> Yeah, sorry for the delay in updating... irl stuff came up which made me have to put down writing this for a while, but I'm back! That's also why it's a bit shorter than the past few chapters. Hopefully the next update will make up for it!
> 
> Weird side note: this fic has taught me a lot about my own editing process. I used to be super reluctant to take stuff out of my writing. But sometimes its better to delete a paragraph that messes up the flow, and sometimes whole concepts just have to be scrapped. 
> 
> Anyway, as always, thank you for the comments and kudos! <3 ya'll the best.


	8. The Hardest of Hearts

In the periphery of his vision, Crosshair caught a flash of red. 

“Wait!” He shouted and instinctively reached out towards Echo. 

But it was too late- Echo had already crossed over the threshold and the doors slammed shut between them. Then, the doors to the left and right closed. 

“They’re trying to box us in!” Tech yelped just as their last means of escape- the corridor they had just come through- began to shut.

But with incredible speed, Wrecker grabbed either side of the frame. The hydraulics groaned as the large Clone pushed against a force that was great enough to crush a normal person. 

“Go!” Wrecker said through gritted teeth. 

Crosshair and Tech dove underneath Wreckers legs, sliding to the safety of the other side. Tech scrambled to his feet and ripped the control panel from the wall. He expertly grabbed two blue wires from a bundle and held one in each hand. 

“Wrecker, drop the door on three,” Tech said. “One-”

“Wait. When you say ‘three’, or after ‘three’?” Wrecker asked, arms beginning to wobble. 

“When I say three!”

“So-”

“Oh, for the maker’s sake,” Crosshair hissed. “Three!”

Wrecker instinctively dropped the door just as Tech touched the two wires together. The door seized just long enough for Wrecker to jump safely to his brothers. They stood where the coordiors branched into a T, trying to catch their breath. 

“Where’d Echo go?” Wrecker said, looking around and rolling his shoulders. 

“He’s on the other side,” Crosshair said, jamming his thumb towards the sealed door in front of them. “What was the one thing he told us not to do? Split up. And what's the first thing he does?” 

“Echo, can you hear me?” Tech spoke into the comms. There was no response. “I can’t find him on my scanner.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Crosshair said. “The Imperials managed to regroup way too quickly.”

“So what do we do now?” Wrecker asked. 

“We stick to the plan,” Crosshair replied. “We get to the server room and find Hunter. I’m sure Echo will meet us there.”

“But what if he’s in trouble?” Tech pointed out. “We should go back.”

“There are too many choke points,” Crosshair argued. “We keep moving, go around to an alternate route.”

Tech threw his arms up in frustration. “Who died and put you in charge?”

They both went silent, the implications of that sentence weighing a little too heavily. 

Suddenly, Wrecker spoke up. “Um, I think we should go left.” 

“Oh, look who has ideas now,” Crosshair snarked. 

“Not to mention that's the opposite direction of the server room,” Tech added. “It leads nowhere.”

“Well it doesn’t have Stormtroopers.”

“What?!” Both Tech and Crosshair turned to see a dozen troopers rounding the corner, blasters at the ready. 

“We found the intruders!” the Trooper at the front of the pack shouted, “Blast them!”

“Left.” Crosshair and Tech said simultaneously, giving each other a curt nod of agreement. 

The trio turned and sprinted down the right corridor, the troopers on their heels and blaster bolts flying through the air. 

“Cover!” Crosshair said as a blaster bolt clipped his armor, leaving a black streak against the paint. 

Wrecker pressed himself into the alcove of a doorway, with Crosshair going into the frame across from him. Tech was about to join Wrecker, but a door further down the hall caught his attention. To the untrained eye, it would have been identical to all others in the endless maze of hallways and doors. But Tech could tell that it was designed for a higher level of security protocols than the others- most likely a two-factor biometric lock. 

“Watch my six,” was all Tech said before he ran towards the door.

“Wait!” Crosshair shouted after him, but it was clear that nothing was going to stop Tech. So, Crosshair glanced over to Wrecker. “Why does nobody listen to me?!”

“Hmm?” Wrecker said, peeking his head out from behind the wall. 

Crosshair was ready to give them both a dressing down, when a better idea came to mind. “Hey Wreck, remember that mission on El’Dorn?”

Wrecker laughed heartily as bolt slammed into the wall a half-inch away from his helmet. “Oh yeah. That was fun.”

“Up for round two?”

“You’re on!”

Wrecker reached into his pack and pulled out three grenades that were painted yellow with crude smiley faces. He activated all three simultaneously and rolled them gently across the ground towards the Troopers. But instead of a blast, thick plumes of purple smoke erupted from the canisters and filled the corridor. 

“I’ll give you a head start,” Crosshair said smugly, plunging into the purple cloud. 

From his position further up the hall, Tech rolled his eyes. He never understood why those two had to come up with such elaborate ways to one-up each other. Instead, he turned his attention back to the door and tuned out the obnoxious banter filling the comm. 

_ “No fair! That one way mine!” _

_ “No, that was a head shot. The rules say that counts for me.” _

_ “That one’s still twitching- doesn’t count.” _

_ “Not anymore.” _

Working diligently, Tech connected his datapad to the terminal and started to run through every program he personally designed. After each sequence, the panel flashed red and gave an angry  _ beep.  _ Tech felt his frustration begin to mount- he had just pulled off an impossible maneuver- opening a door should’ve been a walk in the park. 

“And that's ten for me, two for you,” Crosshair said, appearing from the dissipating purple smoke. “Gonna have to try harder than that to beat me, Wrecks.”

“It’s not fair when you shoot before I can even get there!” Wrecker complained. 

“Then shoot better,” the sniper scoffed. “Nice of you to help out, Tech-y.”

Tech bit back a sharp retort. “I think I’m onto something here. I just need to get this door open.”

“We need to keep moving- reinforcements are heading this way.”

“I just need time.”

“We don’t have any!”

Wrecker let out a frustrated groan. “Will you two stop arguing? I’m getting a headache.”

“Oh, poor baby-” Crosshair started to say. 

“Shh.” Wrecker interrupted. 

“Did you just shush me?!”

Wrecker frowned and sounded uncharacteristically serious. “I heard something.”

“I didn’t hear anything?” Crosshair said. 

“If there was someone near, I would see something on my scanner,” Tech said, showing the empty screen. “See?”

“There it was again!” Wrecker insisted.

Suddenly, a shot rang through the air followed by a yell of pain from Tech. The smaller Clone hit the ground, datapad skittering down the hallway. He clutched his right thigh where the armor was now black and warped below the hip. 

“You should listen to your friend.” A voice echoed down the hall and a grey uniformed woman stepped into view. There was the slightest metallic  _ clink clink  _ as four large droids followed behind her. “Scanners are so easy to jam.” 

It took Crosshair a moment to recognize her, but then the familiarity of her features dawned on him. The scowl, the large blaster, the short stature- it was the Agent that had taken point at Nylo’s apartment. More unnerving than the smoking blaster pointed at them were the four massive droids that bore an uncanny resemblance to the Sepratist assassin droids they had faced before. But now, the ugly Imperial crest was painted in stark white on the chest piece. 

Crosshair dropped next to Tech to examine the wound as Wrecker protectively stepped in front of them. 

“Hey! We’re retired from fighting droids!” Wrecker exclaimed. 

“You defective  _ scum  _ thought you could come aboard an ISB ship and fuck with us?” the Agent snarled. “Just who do you think you are?”

“Are you alright?” Crosshair whispered, moving Techs hand slightly to get a look at the wound. Blood was beginning to seep from between his fingers. “Can you move?”

“We need to get through that door,” Tech said between gritted teeth. “I’m almost certain that it's a backdoor to the server room.” 

“Okay, okay,” Crosshair replied, trying to not let any panic edge into his voice. They were already down two members, and now Tech. He just had to stick to Echo’s plan- they would be fine. “Get ready to move.”

“Can’t wait.” 

“I think we’re the Clones who are about to kick your ass!” Wrecker retorted, holding up his larger-than-necessary blaster. 

Crosshair grabbed Tech by the back of his armor and hauled him further into the alcove, away from danger as Wrecker opened fire, sending a spray of bolts down the corridor. The droids and the Agents scattered, but Crosshair knew that it wouldn’t keep them at bay for long. 

“Wrecker!” he called out, “Get over here!”

“No way! I haven’t gotten to bust some droids in ages!” Wrecker said, and began to charge down the hall. 

One of the droids emerged from their cover, the lights that were in lieu of eyes changing from a dim yellow to a dark red. Two large blasters replaced the pincers that acted as hands and they leveled with Wrecker’s head.

“On second thought!” he yelped and dove into the alcove with his brothers just as the return fire started to ricochet down the hall. 

“I’ll keep them distracted,” Crosshair said to Wrecker, “Help Tech-y get the door open.”

“Are you alright?” Wrecker asked. 

“I’ll be better once I get into that blasted server room,” Tech huffed. 

“Not a problem,” Wrecker said, “I’ll get us in there in no time!”

Not wanting to stick around to hear Wrecker’s master plan, Crosshair reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out three metal disks. As soon as he heard the  _ click  _ of the droids blasters reaching the end of a cycle, he stepped into the hall and threw the disks with expert precision. One landed on the ground, one on the ceiling, and the other just right of the droid. 

“Watch out,” Crosshair said, aiming towards the disk on the ground, “Tripping hazard.”

The bolt from his rifle hit the center of the disk, ricocheting to the right and then up, and finally down to a small unprotected access panel on the back of the droid's neck. The shot tore through the droid’s internal mechanisms, and it collapsed. The coy smile that quirked the edge of his lips didn’t last long as the three other droids emerged. 

In the alcove, Tech wasn’t making much headway in getting the door open. 

“No, try and find the red wire!” Tech said, starting to feel a little woozy. 

“This one?” Wrecker asked, holding up a green wire instead. 

“No- oh no. I always forgot you’re colorblind,” Tech groaned. “Let's start over- find a black wire that connects to the interface bypass.”

“This is taking too long,” Wrecker complained.

“I would like to see you come up with a better way to get through a biometric lock,” Tech said, his full attention on the door. That was until he heard Wrecker beginning to rummage through his pack, and he realized his mistake. “Wait- no! I take it back.”

“Too late, you said it,” Wrecker grinned and stuck a very large brick of explosive compound against the door. “Cross, duck!” 

Tech yelped as Wrecker tucked him under his arm and ran, narrowly avoiding the blasts from the droids. The explosion rocked the hallway, a large column of flame shot erupted and the screech of metal being torn filled the air. 

As the smoke cleared, Crosshair poked his head out from behind the frame he was hiding in. There was a scorch mark across the side of his armor, but he was otherwise unharmed. The three other assassin droids, on the other hand, had gotten caught in the brunt of the blast and were laying smoking on the ground.

“Are you out of your mind!” Crosshair shouted over the ringing in his ears, “You could have killed me!”

“But I didn’t.”

“That's not the point!” he sputtered. 

“Niner Squad, I’m going to need a full  _ battalion  _ on the G-deck east corridor,” the Agent snarled, picking herself off the ground. “Now!”

“Lets go!” Tech said, nudging Wrecker into the server room. 

As Crosshair stepped through the door frame, he muttered. “I hope Echo is having better luck than us.” 

...

“I’ve been so looking forward to our meeting,” Grimbol said, “I-”

The Imperial didn’t have time to finish his speech before Echo lunged forward with unrestrained ferocity. He grabbed Grimbol by front of his uniform and slammed him into the cold metal wall. 

“You son of a bitch,” Echo snarled and reeled his arm back, ready to break every bone in the Agent’s body- starting with the face. Except his arm faltered when Grimbol let out a low chuckled.

“A rather base attempt at intimidation,” Grimbol said and held out his hand to give a better view of the grenade. “But as you can see, this EMP device is on a dead-man switch. The slightest decrease in pressure and it goes off.”

Echo tightened his grip and weighed his options. He doubted that he could get out of the blast range before he was incapacitated.  _ But then again, it would be worth it to kill Grimbol,  _ he thought but had to push that down and focused on the objective.  _ No- we’re here to get Hunter back. _

He released his hold of Grimbol and took a step back. 

“So you can be civilized,” the Agent said, brushing off the front of his uniform with his free hand. 

“When I want to be,” Echo retorted. “But if you’re not going to kill me, then I would like to get back to rescuing my brother. If that's alright with you.” 

“Sorry to interrupt your tight schedule, but I would like to chat first.” Grimbol said, “Then, you have my word, I will allow you to continue your… attempt. Forever how much longer it lasts.”

Echo glanced at the grenade. “Do I have a choice?”

Grimbol shrugged. “No, but I will give you the illusion of one.”

Without another word, Grimbol gestured for Echo to follow and started down the hallway. The doors would open in front of them, just long enough for them to step through before shutting behind. Eventually they came to the end of the corridor to a lift. 

Echo stopped. “I may age quickly, but I wasn’t born yesterday.” 

“I can detonate this device and have my guards drag your unresponsive body to my office if you prefer.” Grimbol’s voice was devoid of all fake-pleasantness from before. 

“You drive a hard bargain,” Echo said, stepping into the lift. 

Making only the slightest of movements, his hand came to rest on his holstered pistol as they rode up several floors. Neither of them spoke, and the only noise was a quiet musical chime that came over the speaker. 

When the doors opened, it wasn’t to another maze-like hallway, but to a large office. It was devoid of any personal effects, but had high-end furniture decorating the space. The east wall was completely transparent and provided a breathtaking view of the planet below. Gritting his teeth, Echo stepped into the office as Grimbol walked around him and sat behind a large black-wood desk. The Agent gestured to one of the chairs facing the desk, but Echo remained standing, arms crossed. He didn’t have time for this- he had to find the rest of the Batch.

“I-”

“No,” Echo interrupted, and he caught a twitch of Grimbols eye.  _ Interesting.  _ “I get to ask the first question.”

“Funny of you to assume you have any power here.”

“Oh, I do. Otherwise you would have dropped that grenade by now. Or had me shot in the back- that’s your style, right?”

Grimbol let out a breathy laugh. “Do all Clones have the same amount of arrogance, or is that a trait just you and Hunter share?”

Echo’s stomach twisted at the way Grimbol said Hunter’s name, but he knew the Agent was just trying to bait him. “Where is he?”

“It appears that we both have something the other needs. Perhaps an agreement can be reached?”

“I’m not going to negotiate with you,” Echo said, and noticed that there was a knife laying on his desk. He could only see part of the blade, the hilt being obscured by a stack of data-pads. “And what could I possibly have that you would want? What could any Clone have that the Empire doesn’t possess already?”

“Information,” Grimbol’s eyes glinted. “Your kind stood at the side of Jedi for years, attended meetings, visited temples, overheard conversations.”

“None of that matters now,” Echo snarled. “The Empire made sure of that when they had the Jedi executed. I heard what happened at the temple on Coruscant- you killed children!”

“Well, I’ll let you in on a secret. Sometimes the Empire accidently lets  _ things _ slip through the cracks. Defective clones, traitors, Jedi…” 

Echo blinked. He had always held out hope that maybe some had survived, but it seemed impossible. If Jedi as great as General Skywalker and Kenobi fell, what hope did others have?

“I… I don’t know anything, I was no one special.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Grimbol said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “How about this- you tell me one location, just one, that you visited with the Jedi and in return, I’ll give you the number of one Clone that did not follow the recall order, along with their last known location.”

For the first time since he had to decide to leave Hunter behind, Echo was paralyized with indecision. On one hand, all he had to do was give a location and he had the sneaking suspicion that Grimbol would know if he was lying. The Jedi were gone- what difference would it make if he told them where a temple was located? And in exchange for a brother, it was a small price to pay. He remembered what it was like, after he was brought back from the Techno-Union, to see Kix and Jesse. They had smiled and laughed and cried and fallen back into talking like no time had passed. 

What he wouldn’t give to have the slightest possibility to see them again.

But giving the information to Grimbol felt  _ wrong _ . The only reason Echo knew the location of one of the secret Jedi temples was because Ashoka had been gushing about how beautiful it had been to visit before General Kenobi had to gently remind her that it was, in fact, a secret. The Jedi had trusted the Clones with their lives, and were betrayed.  _ Am I going to add to that betrayal?  _

“I-” Echo started, but was interrupted by a voice over the loudspeakers. 

_ Senior personal, please begin evacuation plan Delta-Six,  _ a computerized voice sounded over the intercoms.  _ Hull integrity had been compromised, please begin evacuation plan Delta-Six.” _

“Well, unfortunately that is my cue to leave,” Grimbol sighed. “If you managed to live, which I highly doubt, I will look forward to the rest of this conversation.” He stood and straightened out the small creases that had formed on the front of his uniform. “You should be on your way as well.” 

Echo glanced past Grimbol to the knife that remained on the desk. Now that he could see the hilt, he realized why it had caught his attention. It was Hunter’s. The Agent walked past Echo, a data-pad tucked under his arm and grenade in hand, but paused in the doorframe of the lift. He turned back to give Echo one last look. 

“Oh, your missing brother is two floors down in medical wing E, room 301. The security code for the door is 3847. I’ll personally assure that the path is clear for you.”

For the second time in the span of a few minutes, Echo was once again at a loss for words until he managed to squeak out. “Why?” 

“I believe that Hunter deserves one last reunion before his termination. He’s been so cooperative- think of this as his reward.”

Bile rose in the back of Echo’s throat. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Not likely. Now run along, before I change my mind.” 

The doors closed behind the Agent, leaving Echo alone. He immediately reached across the desk and picked up the knife, tucking it safely in his belt. _What the hell did he mean, ‘termination’?_ Echo thought, and hit the ‘down’ button for the lift. As he waited for the doors to open, he heard the faint crackle as his comm come back to life.

...

As the last Stormtrooper dropped in the sights of his rifle, Crosshair pulled away from the scope. He looked over to Wrecker, who was leaning against the wall. Blood was beginning to dribble from underneath his helmet and run down his chest piece from a laceration over his left eye. But Wrecker was nowhere as injured as Tech. 

Crosshair sat next to his smaller brother, who had been tucked behind an overturned control-console for safety. He had been right- the unassuming door did feed into the much larger central server room. And as soon as the blaster fire had ended, Tech had traded his pistol for a data-pad that was now wired into the central security server. His fingers were leaving smudges of blood across the screen and began to type so quickly that Crosshair couldn’t keep up with the movements. 

“That should be the last of them- for now,” Tech sounded shakey. “I have access to all of their security cameras and lock down protocols. They’re going to have one hell of time getting through all these blast doors.” 

“Good work,” Crosshair said, “I have a feeling that the Agent isn’t going to have a fun time plasma-cutting through bulkheads.”

Tech chuckled. “I’m scanning through plans right now- I'll try and narrow down where they might be holding Hunter.” 

“Okay. Wrecker, try and make some type of barricade,” Crosshair said, taking his pack off. “We have to hold this position until Echo regroups with us.” 

“Sure thing,” Wrecker replied and grabbed a large rack of servers. 

“Watch what you’re unplugging!” Tech yelped, but it was too late. 

The rack hit the ground in a shower of sparks, but to his credit, did make a good barrier. 

Crosshair eyed the blood that was pooling on the ground beneath Tech as he sat his rifle down and rummaged through his pack until he found a small medical kit.

“I need to take a look at that.”

“Oh, just a scratch,” Tech muttered, but the slight tremor to his voice told another story. 

“Don’t lie to me, little brother,” Crosshair said and pulled out a stim. He pulled off the cap so the tiny needle was visible. “I’ll have Wrecker sit on you if you won’t hold still.”

“I’m fine!”

“Is this because you don’t like needles? Don’t be a baby!”

“I need to lock security-”

“You’re not going to bleed out because you’re afraid of a little needle,” Crosshair yelled. 

Crosshair couldn’t believe his batchers sometimes- they all annoyed him to no end. Wrecker just on principle; Echo was too much of a good-doer; Hunter was too stubborn; and Tech was about to bleed out because he thought a needle was going to hurt more than a blaster bolt through his leg. 

Moving fast, the sniper grabbed Tech’s thigh plate and unclipped it to reveal a nasty blaster burn. 

“Is it bad?” Tech said, his head turned away. 

“Of course it is,” Crosshair retorted, not having the patience for bedside manners. “I think it nicked an artery.”

“Just tell me when you're about to give me the stim,” Tech said, already flinching. 

Rolling his eyes, Crosshair plunged the needle into Tech’s thigh with no warning. Tech yelped and tried to jump away, but Crosshair grabbed his shoulder with his free hand and held him in place. 

“Ow! That hurt!”

“How about I just let you bleed out next time!” Crosshair shot back and took out a bacta patch. 

Since medical wasn’t exactly his experience, Crosshair did the best he could to sterilize and bandage the wound before reattaching the armor. He then took out another bacta patch and threw it towards Wrecker, who caught it mid-air.

“Thanks, Cross.”

“See? Someone appreciates me.”

A voice suddenly cut through the comms, “-hear me?”

“Echo!” Tech exclaimed, “Are you okay?” 

“Yes! Are you?”

“We’re holding out in the server room. I have access to everything now, but I still can’t find you.”

“Where are you?” Wrecker added.

“I don’t have a lot of time, but I know where Hunter is.” Echo sounded angry- the levels of rage that Crosshair had only begun to recently hear from the former reg. “But Grimbol’s getting away. He’s heading towards the shuttle bay using a south-east corridor. Is there any way-”

“I’ll get him,” Crosshair snarled, throwing the rifle over his shoulder. “You two-  _ stay _ .” and took off before Tech or Wrecker could protest. 

The sniper leapt through the make-shift barrier and sprinted down the hallway, trying to remember the layout. He may not have been tech-savvy, or great at planning, or even that strong, but he was good at patterns. That’s all his shooting really was- a pattern of distances and variables and trigger pulls. Every third corridor connected to the one on the right-  _ so if I turn now, I’ll run straight into that bastard.  _

“Cross, you moron! Echo said not to split up,” Tech’s voice came through his comm. “Get back here!”

“He also said that Grimbol was getting away,” Crosshair shot back. “I’m going to stop him- so either help me or shut up.”

There was a beat of silence before Tech let out an irritated, “Fine! There’s a pack of Troopers coming down the hall- I’ll redirect them. The door to your left is opening now- it’ll direct you right to the south-east corridor.”

Crosshair grunted a ‘thanks’ and turned the corner to a man in a grey uniform making his way hastily down the hall. He wasn’t quite running, but was definitely moving with a purpose. Crosshair instantly pulled the rifle to his shoulder and closed one eye, lining up Grimbol’s head in the scope. 

It was a clear shot, a direct line- less than a hundred yards. He could have made the shot blindfolded, but in that moment an unfamiliar fury coursed through his body. This was the man who had taken Hunter, who wanted to kill him and all of his batch mates. This was a terrible person, and Crosshair had killed plenty of those before, but it had never been so… personal. 

His body began shaking and before he could stop the animalistic reaction, a scream ripped from his throat and he involuntarily pulled the trigger. As soon as the bolt left the barrel, Crosshair knew. The shot went side, soaring over Grimbol’s shoulder and into the wall. The rifle went slack in his hands, the barrel slamming into the ground and the stock was loose in his grip. 

Grimbol stopped and turned and made eye contact with Crosshair before letting out a huff of laughter. 

“Better luck next time!” Grimbol taunted and gave a wave before a door shut between them. 

“Cross, there aren’t any cameras in the corridor- what happened?” Tech asked. 

“Grimbol’s gone.”

“What? What happened?”

“I.. I missed. I had him- and I missed.”

...

When the lift doors opened, Echo expected to be greeted by the business end of a dozen blasters. Instead, he faced down an empty and surprisingly quiet hall. He took a hesitant step forward, waiting for the shoe to drop, but nothing happened as he found himself following Grimbols directions. 

This level of the destroyer was definitely designed with a specific purpose in mind. Echo had a few ideas of what it might be as a door that had been left partially open. He lifted his pistol and poked his head in, allowing the night-vision of his helmet to illuminate the room. It was empty except for a long chain that hung from a beam on the ceiling. It ended in a set of thick shackles. Directly below was a dark stain. 

Echo immediately turned away. _ No. He’s still alive. But alive doesn’t mean- _

Shaking his head, Echo continued down the hall until he spotted the numbers  _ 301  _ above a standard door. 

_ If Grimbol hadn’t told me the exact numbers, I wonder how long we would have been searching. There's no way we would’ve found the room in time, _ Echo thought bitterly. He didn’t know what type of trap Grimbol was laying, but he could feel his hands shake slightly as he entered the code. 

The door controls beeped once and slid open, revealing a small decontamination chamber before a second set of doors. As soon as Echo stepped into the room, his static filled comm erupted with noise, causing him to jump. 

“Echo, where did you go?” Tech asked. “I can’t see you on my scanner.” 

“You scared the crap out of me,” Echo whispered. “I’m not sure- it’s some type of medical room, I think.”

“Be careful. I’m still trying to get Crosshair back to us safely.”

“What- is he okay?”

“I’m fine,” Crosshair said, his voice flat. “Echo, I’m coming to you. Tech and Wrecker can start setting up an extraction.”

“Okay, I’ll send my coordinates. Is Grimbol-?”

“No.” The finality in Crosshairs voice didn’t leave any room for discussion. 

“Well, get down here, quick. I’m starting to get a-”

“Don’t say a bad feeling.” 

As soon Echo stepped through the threshold, the doors slammed shut. The chamber went dark, before a blinding flash of light and a quick burst of air. Then, the second set of doors opened to a large, sterile white room that was covered in various medical equipment. It wasn’t unlike the operating rooms in the Techno Union, or Kamino for that matter. 

And in the center of the room, there was a gurney with a very still body strapped down to it. 

Echo heart dropped, and he couldn’t quite comprehend what he was looking at. He remembered what it was like to see himself once the Batch had extracted him from the Techno-Union. It was the strangest sensation- looking into a mirror and not recognizing the face staring back.  _ That can’t be me,  _ he had thought, studying the too-pale skin and the bald head with warped metal protruding from the skin. 

That's what it was like looking down at Hunter. Echo knew, logically, in the back of his mind, it was Hunter but their leader looked so  _ wrong. _ Hunter had lost weight, and most of his muscle mass somehow in the few weeks he had been missing. His hair was matted with blood and a short curly beard had grown, covering half his face that didn’t quite hide his sunken cheekbones. That wasn’t even the worst of it- his body was absolutely riddled with bruises and jagged lacerations in various stages of healing. 

Hands still trembling, Echo gently pressed two fingers against Hunter's neck below his jaw. It took a moment, but he thankfully felt a weak pulse- but a pulse nevertheless. But Hunter’s skin was burning to the touch, and his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. Suddenly, he gave a weak cough that sent a shudder through his body then his brown eyes fluttered open. Hunter’s gaze was distant, like he was looking straight through Echo.

“Hunter!” Echo exclaimed, “Can you hear me? Come on, wake up!”

“Ech- What’re doing,” Hunter’s words slurred and broke off as his head slumped to the side.

Echo cursed and gently shook his shoulder. “No, Hunter, stay awake.” There was no response. “Hey, you said as soon as we got back to the ship that we were making hot chocolate. I’m holding you to that. Now wake up.” 

“Echo- what’s happening?” Tech asked, “The situation up here is starting to get a little… well… unstable.”

“And it wasn’t my fault!” Wrecker chimed in. 

“I... I found him,” Echo said, at a loss for words as to how to explain the state their brother was in. 

“Is he alright?” Wrecker said, not able to bring himself to finish the sentence. 

“He’s-” Echo broke off, looking back down at the broken form. Hunter’s body seemed to labor with every shallow breath he took. “He’s-”

“Echo! Is Hunter alive?” Crosshair yelled. 

“He's alive- but he's not okay. We have to get him out of here, but I… I don’t know if we should move him.”

“Turn on your HUD camera.” Tech said sharply. 

“No,” Echo replied. “You don’t want to see him like this.”

“What- turn on your HUD!” Tech shouted angrily. “What did they do to my brother!”

“Crosshair, hurry. I’m going to need your help getting Hunter out of here.” Echo said, and felt bad for ignoring Tech. 

“Copy that.” Crosshair said. 

As gently as possible, Echo began undoing the tubes and IV drips going into Hunter’s body. He grimaced as he saw the dozens of needle marks that littered his arm. A tube that was connected to a needle going in deeper than the rest was connected to a drip containing a dark blue liquid. Echo noted the fact that there were no markings on the bag to indicate what drug it exactly was. 

Just as Echo disconnected the last monitor, he felt a warm hand grab his wrist. Hunter’s eyes had opened and seemed a bit more focused. 

“‘Shouldn’t be here,” Hunter slurred. 

Echo grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Neither should you. We’re going home. The boys are waiting to get you out of here.”

“No,” Hunter gripped his hand with what little strength he had. “He’s coming.”

“Who?” Echo asked and heard the door slide open behind him. 

Echo whipped around, pistol at the ready to shoot the first thing that moved as the second set of doors parted to reveal a trooper. The only thing that stopped him from pulling the trigger was the rank decoration- a black pauldron. 

“You shouldn’t have come here,” the Commander said, fully stepping in the room. There was no expression behind the Clones voice, no weight. It was like he was reading a dull script. 

“Not you again,” Echo said, trying to keep his voice level. “Look, you didn’t leave me any other choice. You took our Sargent.”

“I’ll give you a chance to surrender, follow the recall order. Be a good soldier and return to your brothers.”

A turmoil of emotions rolled through Echo’s chest. One one hand, this was a brother and Echo didn’t want to kill him.  _ It’s not him- its the chip,  _ Echo tried to reason. But, this particular Clone was responsible for what had happened to Hunter. And that just couldn’t stand. 

Slowly, Echo reached up and pulled off his helmet so the Commander could see his face, see the anger and the hurt. “I know this won’t make any sense, but you have to listen to me. You’re not in control of your actions right now. There’s a device that was implanted in your brain since birth that's making you do these things. I’m sure you would never hurt-”

The Commander tensed and drew his blaster, “You are clearly defective. I’ll ensure that your termination is quick-”

That's all Echo needed to hear. He leapt forward and swung his helmet down, knowing the blaster out of the Commanders hand. The Commander was clearly caught off guard, but recovered quick enough to block Echo’s next blow. Every punch, every kick, every attempt to grapple was met with a block or blow of his own. 

_ This guy is good.  _ Echo thought as a punch landed on his side and a knee buried into his midsection.  _ ARC good.  _

Echo stepped back, bringing his hands up to protect his exposed face. When the Commander threw a right hook, Echo managed to catch his forearm and lock it under his right arm- but realized his mistake too late. The Commander used his free left hand to draw a blade that had been tucked into the small of his back and surged forward.

They went crashing to the ground, with the Commander landing on top. A knee was driven deep into Echo’s stomach and a forearm pressed across his chestplate. He tried to writhe from the grapple, but the Commander had him pinned. 

“So this is it- you’re going to torture me, kill me, and for what?” Echo wheezed. “At least try and remember what we were bred for! It was to fight for the Republic- and as messed up as it was, there was at least a future of hope. What is there now?”

“The Empire.”

The Commander’s brought the knife to Echo’s throat. Realizing there was no talking his way out of this one, Echo thrashed and managed to partially free his mechanical arm from the Commanders weight. The metal hand wrapped around the Commander's ankle and Echo braced himself- and prayed that Tech’s little modification worked.

A mechanical interlock in his forearm engaged and a burst of electricity erupted from the mechanism. 

The Commander's body seized in pain, which Echo would have counted as a success- if it hadn’t been for the one downside of his plan. Since the two had been touching, Echo yelped in pain as the voltage raced through his body. 

_ I don’t know if I should hug Tech or hit him,  _ Echo thought as the electrical shock subsided. Recovering faster than the Commander, Echo threw the Commander off of him and, for good measure, kicked up as he got to his feet, 

His boot caught underneath the Commander's helmet and sent him flying backwards. Echo heard the helmet clattering against the ground as he drew the Hunter’s knife. The Commander got to his own feet, and wiped away the blood that was starting to stream from his nose.

Echo locked eyes with the Commander and found himself under a very familiar gaze. He tried to form words, but any expression was lost upon the face he was staring down. 

The Commander's eyes narrowed and charged forward, throwing a punch that caught Echo square across the face. He stumbled backwards a step, but didn’t try and fight back or even defend himself. But Echo couldn’t feel any pain. Just his own disbelief. 

So came another hit, than another, and they continued until his body couldn’t physically handle another blow. Echo fell to one knee, blinking through the blood trickling into his eyes. 

“Are you surrendering?” the Commander asked, looking down at the Clone cowering in front of him. The Clones eyes were wide, and tears were beginning to well up. “Answer me.”

Echo didn’t respond, just studied the Commander's face. A long scar curled down the left side of his face, narrowly missing his eye. His hair was in a tight regulation cut and had gone completely grey at the temples. The dark brown eyes that had once been so stern, but also hid a warmth and wisdom, were cold as a dying star. 

“You know, I mourned you,” Echo finally said, trying to get back on his feet. The Commander kicked out, catching him square in the chest and sent him flying backwards. This didn’t stop Echo. “I hoped that you had found peace in the afterlife, not being some mindless puppet of the Empire.”

“What are you babbling about?” the Commander snarled. 

“But here you are!” Echo continued. “Do you even know who I am?”

“You’re a defective Clone,” the Commander said. 

“I was one of Rex’s men, under General Skywalkers Command. We fought side by side with your battalion for years” Echo said desperately, “Can’t you remember anything?” 

The Commander leveled his blaster at the man in front of him. “Your termination will be swift.”

“Can you even remember your name?”

The Commander stiffened. “My number is-”

“No! Your name.”

“I have no name. It’s not permitted.” 

“Yes you do,” Echo said, almost pleading. “You were a Marshall Commander of the 212th. You were the Commander of the whole Third Systems army. You  _ are _ Cody- please remember.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to everyone in the comments who, the very second I was like "here's a high ranking Clone that is acting a little off", were like "Cody." I'm glad we all share the same need for villain!Cody to be in this new series.


	9. My Boy Builds Coffins

At this point in Echo's short life, it took quite a bit to rattle him. Working with the Jedi- especially General Skywalker- seemed to have that effect on people. Even after being pulled from a years-long cryo-sleep and waking to find the work a vastly different place- and friends and family long dead- Echo was still able to rationalize it. The galaxy was at war, after all. But looking into Commander Cody’s eyes and not even seeing the slightest glimmer of recognition at his own name shook Echo to the core.

For a Clone, a name was the one thing that was truly unique and absolutely theirs. It was the only aspect of them that the GAR could never take away.

But now, Echo's pleads to just _remember_ fell on deaf ears as another swift kick slammed into his sternum, driving the air from his lungs. The ARC stumbled backwards and clutched at his now-dented chest plate, hoping that no bones broke. That's when, from the corner of his eye, Echo caught the slightest bit of movement coming from the gurney. He looked past Cody to see that Hunter's hand had come up to clutch the side-guard of the bed. Hunter was trying to pull himself up as much as the restraints holding him down would allow. 

_He's going to hurt himself_ , Echo thought instinctively and the overwhelming need to protect gave him a much needed moment of clarity. 

"I'm sorry, _vode_ ," Echo said. "I'm sorry this is what happened to you. You deserve better." 

Cody's frown deepened. "You are only delaying your termination."

"Maybe so. And there might be a day where you catch me again and put a blaster bolt through my brain," Echo replied. "But right now, I'm taking Hunter and walking out that door. And you're in my way."

The dull pain emanating from his ribs helped ground Echo as he fell back on his training. Because he was, first and foremost, an ARC Trooper. And he realized that if he had any chance of winning, he could no longer think of the Clone standing in front as his former Commander. Cody was simply an opponent that wouldn't hesitate to kill if given the chance. ARC Trooper Echo wasn't here to rescue his brother- he was here to complete a mission. And failing a mission just simply wasn't in the ARC vocabulary.

It hurt like hell, having to compartmentalize his emotions in that way.

"Stand down." Cody started to say. 

Echo knew he had to end this fight- and fast. Hunter needed his help. So despite the soreness in his legs, Echo pushed off with all his strength and rushed Cody. He managed to catch the senior officer by surprise and he grabbed hold of Cody's shoulder guards. The Commander struggled against the grip, but Echo held on tight until they were locked together. Mentally bracing himself for the pain, Echo reeled his head back and slammed his forehead onto the bridge of his opponent's nose. He could distinctly hear the crunch of cartilage. When Cody tried to wrenched away, Echo releasing his grip suddenly. Cody stumble back, disoriented and off balance.

Not wasting his chance, Echo pressed forward. He put his fists up in a boxer's poser and began throwing punch after punch, trying to wear Cody down. Echo had never been one for boxing- that was more of Fives forte- but he had picked up enough of the style to know when to press a good offense. However, Cody recovered quickly and was able to block most of the blows with either his forearms or avoid them completely. 

"Remember when you came to our class the first week of ARC training?" Echo asked simply. "You were the one teaching advanced hand-to-hand?" Jab. Block. Press forward. "And Fives volunteered for the demonstration?" Cody's eyes narrowed and tried to push back, but Echo wasn't about to let up. Jab. Jab. Block. "He thought he was hot shit, but you laid him on his ass in about three seconds. Had a black eye for a week."

Echo laughed humorlessly and Cody winced, as if he had been slapped. And in that moment, Echo managed to land a solid hit to Cody's right shoulder, then to his jaw, and finally a solid left hook to his temple. Cody The let out a low growl that was wildly uncharacteristic for his normally stoic visage before dropping to one knee, sweeping out his opposite leg. The move caught Echo behind the legs and sent him sprawling backwards.

He let out a curse as he fell. That had been a move that Cody taught all the ARCs- he should have seen it coming. But just as they had been taught to disarm, they had been taught to recover. Echo shifted all his weight to his left foot and fell back into a controlled roll up that brought him back onto his feet. And somehow, most likely by sheer _chance,_ Echo had come up standing inside of Cody's reach.

Working on pure instinct, Echo swung his mechanical hand out and caught Cody by the back of the neck. Metal fingers dug into soft skin as Echo gripped down hard enough to probably leave bruises. 

"I'm coming back for you," Echo found himself saying just before the mechanical interlock on his arm engaged. 

Now without the fear of frying himself, Echo grimaced as the full electrical current flowed from the device and straight into Cody. The Commander went rigid and his jaw locked, so the only noise that escaped was a pained grunt. Echo mentally counted to five before releasing. The moment contact broke, he felt his arm seize up for a moment as the small mechanical device failed. 

Cody fell forward and hit the ground with a dull thud, giving one last spasm before going totally still. Echo instantly dropped to his knees and felt under Cody's jaw for a pulse. 

_"Wait, how long is to long?" Echo had asked Tech as he finished tightening the small hatch to the arm's newest upgrade- an electrical element that ranged from just stun to outright kill._

_Tech paused for a moment, doing a quick calculation in his head. "If you start to smell smoke, you'll want to let go."_

Echo let out a sight of relief when he found the faint beat. Positive that Cody wasn't going to get up anytime soon, Echo hastily collected his helmet and blaster as well as Hunter's knife. As he tucked the blaster back into it's side holster, a quiet voice spoke through the silence. 

"It's really him," Hunter's voice was slurred. He had managed to pull himself into a half-sitting position, but in the process opened a deep shoulder wound. Fresh blood was streaming down his bare chest. "Cody. What is he doing here?" 

"Take it easy, Hunter. It'll be okay. We're getting you out of here," Echo quickly slid his helmet back on and activated the comm. "Can anyone read me?"

"Stop cutting your comms!" Tech's voice was strained. "Is everything alright? Well- as alright as it can get?"

"I hit a bit of a _complication_ ," Echo said, looking at Cody. "But I could really use some backup down here."

"Ping your location. Crosshair should be close, but I can't get an exact fix on you. Its like the room you're in doesn't exist." Echo complied, sending out a beacon. "Got it," Tech continued. "I've got the ship on total lock-down but it's not going to stay like that forever."

"Good thing we're leaving- now."

"Are we going to be able to move Hunter?"

"We don't have a lot of options here," Echo replied and starting working to undo the restraints holding down Hunter's legs at the ankles. "Meet us at the back-up rendezvous point."

"Copy that," Tech said into the comms, but then shouted, "Wrecker, we gotta go!" 

As he slowly helped Hunter into a full, upright sitting position, Echo noted that his dark eyes weren't focusing on anything in particular. They were locked in a thousand-yard stare into the middle distance. His breathing had also become labored at the small effort it had taken to sit up. Echo placed a hand on the Sargent's less injured shoulder, and realized that on his wrist and ankles- where the restraints had been removed- the wounds were deep and raw. 

_They must have been on for some time to dig through the skin that deeply_ , Echo thought darkly. 

"Where's- where is everyone?" Hunter asked suddenly. "Are they okay? Wheres-"

"Everyone is fine," Echo reassured. "Crosshair is on his way, and we're meeting Tech and Wrecker at the exit."

"You shouldn't of brought them here," Hunter said, almost sounding like an accusation. "It's not safe here." 

"Well, you know Wrecker," Echo said weakly. "Once he gets it in his mind to blow something up, you can't really stop him." Hunter let out a small huff that could've been mistaken for a chuckle before closing his eyes once again and slumped forward. "Hey- eyes open Sarge. I need you to stay awake." 

Hunter's eyes blinked back open, but he could hardly keep his head up. 

_Whatever drugs the Empire has him on are really doing a number,_ Echo began to worry about pulling the IVs out so suddenly. He was no medic, far from it, but he had seen what happened to soldiers that had been taken off long-term pain medication with no cushion. 

The door to the medical room opened suddenly, and instantly Echo drew his blaster, swinging it around to face the intruder, finger on the trigger. Standing in the doorway, was Crosshair, rifle at the ready. He opened his mouth to say something, but the very moment he saw Hunter the rifle fell from his grip. The weapon slammed onto the ground, followed by his helmet. The sniper sprinted across the room to them, and with more gentleness than Echo had ever seen him display, reached out and touched Hunter's unshaven cheek. 

Crosshair's voice trembled as he brought their foreheads to rest together. "I thought- I'm-. Fuck. You fucking scared me, Hunter. I thought you were-"

"Cross?" Hunter murmured. 

"It's me," Crosshair replied softly. "What did they do to you?"

As Crosshair pulled away from their embrace, he took stock of dozens and dozens of wounds that wrapped around Hunter's body. His face paled, especially at the jagged cut than ran down the entirety of his sternum. The rage that started to consume Crosshair numbed him to the fact that tears had started to roll down his face. 

"What the fuck did they do to him?" Crosshair growled, looking to Echo for answers. 

"I don't know," Echo admitted. "And as harsh as it sounds, that doesn't matter right now. Our priority is getting him off this damned ship and finding a doctor." 

The sniper looked like he wanted to scream, to lash out, to do _something_ with an extraordinary display of violence. But with one more glance at Hunter, he managed to restrain himself. _For Hunter's sake._

"What do I need to do?" 

"Grab an arm. We're moving to the back-up extraction point."

Crosshair quickly retrieved his rifle, slung it over his back, and placed his helmet over his head. 

"Ready?" Echo asked, and with a nod, they each carefully draped one of Hunter's arms over their shoulder.

Hunter let out a moan of pain that caused both of them to flinch. Echo could clearly see that Hunter's shoulders were swollen, most likely from repeated dislocations or fractures. Supporting his weight in this way wasn't ideal but it was the only way Echo could figure to quickly move him. 

"I'm sorry," Echo apologized. "But this is going to hurt like hell. One, two, three." 

On the last count, they lowered Hunter from the bed and onto his feet. It was easier than they were expecting, now that Hunter was painfully underweight. He had never been as bulky as Wrecker, since he relied more on dexterity, but it had never been that easy to count his ribs. And when Hunter's bare feet touched the ground, his knees immediately gave out. Echo and Crosshair caught the slack weight, holding Hunter in place until he regained his footing.

"Echo, we're hurting him," Crosshair said worriedly as Hunter's chest heaved from the effort, and letting out a wet, strangled cough. 

"We don't have a choice," Echo replied. 

"I-" Crosshair faltered as he noticed a body on the ground that-until that moment- hadn't caught his eye. "Is that Commander Cody!?"

"That's a long story," Echo said bitterly. "And a problem for later."

"Right," Crosshair sounded very unsure but didn't press the issue. 

At an agonizingly slow pace, the sniper and the ARC half-carried Hunter from the room. Each light step they took drew a low shutter from Hunter that twisted at Echo's heart. It was obvious the strain that moving was causing his body since he was only in the lower half of his blacks. Echo wondered what the hell they had done with his armor.

"You're doing great Sarge," Crosshair reassured him as they stepped into the corridor. 

The group had made it halfway down the hall when Echo suddenly stopped. He had been doing so well, but the thought back to Cody's unconscious body flashed in his mind. Followed by the promise he had so foolishly made. But there was no way to extract both Hunter and Cody- they didn't have the time or manpower. 

"Whats wrong?" Crosshair asked when Echo's steps faltered. 

"There's something I need to do," Echo said, shifting Hunter's full weight onto Crosshair.

"But," Crosshair started as he awkwardly accepted the full burden. "What about-" 

"It'll just take a second. I promise."

Before Crosshair could protest, Echo turned and disappeared back into the medical room. 

* * *

"Wrecker, we gotta go," Tech yelled from his work-station at the server room control console. 

Deft fingers flying across the screen, Tech pulled up the controls to the last section of the ship he didn't have locked down- the hanger bay. He watched as three TIE fighters were being scrambled- most likely to try and take out their orbital cannon. 

"Not today boys," Tech smirked, waiting until the ships flew directly at the hanger doors to throw up the shields. The TIE's slammed into the green barrier, causing two of the ships to slam into each other and erupt into flames. 

"Aw, already?" Wrecker asked, even though Tech could hear the exhaustion creeping into his voice. 

"Echo and Cross got Hunter," Tech said with a weak smile. "We did it."

The past _however-long_ they had been barricaded in that server room for had been absolute hell for the two Batchers. After getting through the computer's security, Tech managed to lock down each section of the ship, containing all personal into isolated sections. Or at least tried to. A couple of squadrons of Troopers managed to slip through the doors before fully locked, or cut through them with plasma cutters.

In order to keep them away from Echo and Crosshair, Tech diverted them to their location. At first Wrecker made quick work of their opponents, picking Troopers off with his heavy blaster until the thing overheated and jammed. Throwing it aside in frustration, he charged down the hall and broke through the rows of Troopers using nothing but his brute strength and fists. Wrecker was fine smashing through droids in that fashion- he actually considered it his favorite pastime. But it was completely different sensation to slam down and feel the crack of plastoid and bone. It wasn't one that Wrecker enjoyed. 

"Help me pull the last of these connectors," Tech said, working quickly to pack up his equipment. "If I can keep the two system from interfacing, we'll delay-"

"Which connectors?" Wrecker interrupted. 

"That black box on the wall? We need to disconnect-" 

Before Tech could finish speaking, Wrecker grabbed the mounting and ripped it completely off of the wall. Sparks flew as he threw it on the ground. 

"Anything else?" Wrecker asked impatiently.

Tech rolled his eyes and took a step forward to scold his batch mate, but winced as soon as he put his full weight on his injured leg. He looked down at the blaster wound that was- while blissfully numb- steadily leaking blood. The once white thigh armor was stained the same red as the Coruscant Guard colors. 

Wrecker raised an eyebrow. "Can you walk on it?" 

"I'll be fine," Tech quickly said. "Just grab my datapad and we can leave." He motioned across the room and picked up his pack, throwing the straps over his shoulder. "The rendezvous point in just two halls over."

Wrecker complied, picking up the datapad and roughly yanked the cord to disconnect the device from the far console. 

"Be careful!" Tech snapped.

"What!?" 

"That datapad is keeping our upload to the orbital cannon live. If it disconnects or the wrong button is pushed, it could cause the cannon to fire at our location again."

"Oh, please," Wrecker scoffed. "I'm not going to fire the cannon."

"Just don't touch the screen."

Tech instantly realized his mistake when Wrecker's head lilted ever so slightly to the right. 

"What, like this?" Wrecker tapped the screen without looking down. 

There was a barely audible _beep_ and the two locked eyes before Wrecker slowly looked at the screen. 

"Uh."

"Wrecker. What was that noise?"

"So you know how you said not to fire the cannon?"

"You did not!"

"Not my fault!" Wrecker said, waving his hand dismissively as he handed Tech the datapad back. "Besides, didn't you say hitting this ship is a one-and-a-million shot?"

"True," Tech began to say when the ship suddenly and violently lurched, throwing them both to the ground. 

A new round of emergency sirens began blaring through the room as the walls rattling and the creaking of metal reverberated through the entire ship. Tech scrambled to his feet to the monitor and pulled up the exterior hull cameras. At the belly of the ship, where there was once pristine bulkhead was gone. Now, black scoring surround a large hole in the underside of the ship- right where the primary engine room was located. 

"Wrecker!"

"Did it hit?"

"What do you think?"

Their comms channel opened and Echo spoke, sounding out of breath. "What was that?"

"It's not my fault!" Wrecker quickly replied. 

"Let's just say we need to get out of here a bit faster than anticipated," Tech said, opening the main doors and motioned for Wrecker to follow. 

The pair scrambled through the tilting corridors, retracing the same path that they had come in through. The floor was slick with blood and littered with the bodies of dozens of Troopers and droids. Tech and Wrecker didn't say anything, but they had the same train of thought. The extent of their carnage had been brutal, and both felt a wave a guilt. And for the first time in a long while, they didn't tally the body count because they didn't even want to guess how much of those white armor suits held Clones. 

The tremors through the ship grew, and as they turned down a connecting corridor, the ground lurched to port side. The hallway was now tiled at a 45 degree angle and Tech, who was struggling to keep his balance, slammed into the wall. He gritted his teeth and grabbed at his leg.

"That doesn't look 'fine'," Wrecker said as he helped Tech back onto his feet,

The hallway lights started to flicker before totally shutting off, plunging them into darkness. A moment later, there was a loud click and red emergency lights turned on. Then there was a much fainter, secondary noise that caused Tech's stomach to drop. 

"The ship is going into emergency mode," Tech balked. "Everything is resetting."

"That doesn't sound good," Wrecker replied.

"It means we're about to have a lot of company," Tech reached and grabbed Wrecker's forearm. 

Using the large Clone as a crutch, they two continued through the twisting red-lit corridors- now at a much slower pace. But when they came to the extraction point, there were three familiar figures waiting for them. Overwhelmed with joy, Tech pushed through the throbbing pain and ran towards his Batchers with Wrecker hot on his heels.

"Oh, thank the Force!" Tech's words caught in his throat and he came to a screeching halt. 

It was most likely from the blood loss, but Tech thought he was about to pass out when he saw the state Hunter was in. They had all gotten roughed up during battle before, but nothing compared to this. Hunter was almost unrecognizable, covered in lacerations and bruises and his own blood. Tech would of thought him dead if Hunter hadn't picked his head up to look him in the eyes. 

"Tech," Hunter said, not sounding quite sure. "You're hurt." 

"I'm.. I'm.. fine Hunter. You're-" Tech didn't know what to say, so he settled on, "You're alive." 

"Sarge!" Wrecker shouted happily, reaching forward to undoubtedly bring him into a crushing halt, but also faltered. "Oh."

"Wrecker?" Hunter choked out before suddenly going slack in Echo and Crosshair's grip.

"He's out again," Crosshair said worriedly. He gently shook Hunter's arm. "Wake up Sarge. Just a little bit further." 

"Whats wrong with him?" Wrecker sounded absolutely devastated. 

"We don't know. I found him hooked up to all types of medical equipment and this drip," Echo explained. The ARC wasn't in that great of shape either. His armor was covered in blood, mostly likely a mix of his own and Hunters, and he seemed to be favoring his right side. "Tech, can you get this door open?"

"Right," Tech said, remembering his job.

It only took a few moments to open the panel and begin entering the code. Between his shaking hands and the rocking ship, Tech had to re-enter the code twice. The ship bucked so violently that Wrecker had to also grab onto Hunter to keep everyone on their feet.

"What the hell did you two do to the ship?" Crosshair asked, bracing himself against the wall. 

"Well, if I had to guess, I would say that our ace shot over there," Tech glared at Wrecker, "managed to knock out the primary stabilizers."

"Oh, perfect."

"The good news is that's the least of our problems," Tech said as the pressed the last digit in the sequence, and the door slid open. "The ship is activating its emergency protocols, which means that door controls are resetting." 

"So- a lot of angry Troopers between us and shuttle?" Echo sighed, placing a hand on his holster. 

"I can only guess."

Echo nodded solemnly and drew his pistol with his free hand. "Everyone stay close." 

Finally as a group of five, the Bad Batch pressed onward through shaking halls. With every roll, panels fell from the ceiling and pipes within the walls burst from the strain.

"Next time you blow up a ship," Crosshair growled as he used his body to block debris from hitting Hunter. "Make sure were not on it first!" 

The blast door to their left slid open, revealing three very panicked Troopers. But Echo didn't hesitate shooting the front two in the center of the chest, while Tech quickly drew and fired on the third. The sound of blaster fire had an immediate effect on Hunter, who until then had barley managed to stumble along in a half-conscious state.

Hunter wrenched from Echo and Crosshair's grip, taking two steps back before falling to his knees. He clutched at his head, and they all seemed to realize at the same moment what the malfunctioning wiring of the ship must be doing to his heightened senses. 

"Please, Hunter. It's not much further," Wrecker said gently as he looped his arms underneath Hunters, crossing his arms across his chest to pull him into a solid hug.

The gentle, squeezing contact normally helped pull Hunter from those types of spirals, but this was far from a normal situation. It took a few moments and Hunter seemed to calm a bit, but Wrecker could still feel violent tremors course through his arms. It wasn't until Crosshair and Echo pulled Hunter away and back onto his feet that Wrecker realized the _he_ was the one still uncontrollably shaking. 

Thankfully, it was only a hundred or so more yards until they reached the small entry point that they had cut into the bulkhead, leading directly to the shuttle. Crosshair threw his rifle down first before lowering himself in. He threw on the lights and made a quick sweep of the shuttle for any intruders.

"Clear!" Crosshair called up and with help from Wrecker, Tech came down through the hole next. "The med kit is right here," Crosshair said, grabbing the over-sized pack and made a motion towards the blaster wound.

"No time," Tech replied, limping to the cockpit and trying to not slip on his own blood. 

The sniper didn't have time to argue because Hunter was up next. With Wrecker's strong arms wrapped under his arms, Hunter was lowered down until Crosshair could grab onto his waist. It was difficult to maneuver him onto the ground, but even harder to get him to lay still.

"Lay still," Crosshair instructed as he began tearing through their medical kit and regretting not paying more attention to first-aid during their training on Kamino.

Wrecker jumped down, landing with a _thud_ before racing up to the cockpit to help Tech. 

"Echo!" Crosshair called up to the silhouette standing above them. "Get down here!" Echo glanced down, almost in a daze. "Echo!"

The ARC shook his head, snapping out of whatever trance he had found himself in and quickly jumped down. His mechanical legs creaked at the impact, and he turned quickly to slam his fist on the airlock button. The shuttle sealed, and their ears popped at the pressure difference. 

"We're A to go!" Echo yelled and felt as the magnetic locks disengaged from the hull of the ship. 

"Twenty minutes to planet-side," Tech responded. 

"Make it ten." Echo turned his focus to Hunter and saw that Crosshair had pulled out a long tube from the med kit that had large needles on either side.

"He's lost to much blood," Crosshair sounded calm, but his shaking hands betrayed his panic. "We need to give him an emergency transfusion and maybe that will start flushing out his system."

Echo nodded, taking the tube from his hand. "Good thing we've got the same blood type."

He winced as he pushed the needle into his own vein, then crouched down to do the same to Hunter. Both of Hunter's arms were a mess, not only covered in cuts but also littered with needle marks. Trying to find the least damaged patch of skin, Echo quickly inserted the needle before standing up and curling his hand into a fist. As he flexed, dark red blood began to flow down the tube.

Crosshair had torn open a large bacta pack and was trying to assess what area to focus on. The cut down his sternum was jagged and bleeding, but the deep stab into his shoulders was exposing raw muscle to the less-than-sanitary conditions. _The last thing we need is an infection,_ Crosshair though and began to bandage the shoulder. 

"You're might want to hold on back there!" Wrecker shouted and there was suddenly the familiar scream of TIE fighters rocketing past the shuttle. 

"I thought you said you locked down the hangers Tech!" Echo said, grabbing onto a rung of the nearby ladder for stability. He was starting to feel woozy, and wasn't sure if it was from blood loss or the approaching adrenaline crash. After a few minutes, Echo pulled the needles out. 

"They must have been on patrol beforehand," Tech called back, "Wrecker, get on those guns."

"Not a problem." 

Knowing that particular situation was out of his hands, Echo addressed Crosshair. "Whats next?" 

Crosshair paused from clearing away fresh blood with a swath of gauze and quickly dug through a side pouch of the med-kit. He pulled out a small device that fit in the palm of his hand. 

"You need to do a sweep," Crosshair explained. "To make sure's he's not bugged- transmitters, devices, chips. Anything."

Echo blinked- he would have never thought to do that. Wondering just how that ended up being on the top of their protocol list, he flipped the device on and he ran it along Hunters legs. When nothing happened, he continued following the torso and arms. When Echo reached the left bicep, the box get a rapid beep. 

"Shit," Echo gritted his teeth. "Cross, I'm going to need a scalpel." 

The shuttle careened to the left, sending everything not tethered down sliding. 

"Starboard, mark. Three-two," Tech ordered. "Now!"

Looking over his shoulder, Echo saw through the view-port a TIE fighter explode and Wrecker throw a fist into the air. 

"Be careful up there!" Crosshair barked then quickly handed Echo a small silver knife. 

Using the device to find the exact spot, Echo brought the blade to Hunter's skin and could see the faintest scar most likely from when the device was implanted. Hunter's head lolled towards Echo, and he slowly looked from the blade to Echo. Almost expectantly. Taking a deep breath, Echo made an inch long cut along the bicep. 

"I need-" before Echo could finish, Crosshair had already handed him forceps. 

Trying to be as careful as possible in the given situation, Echo slipped the forceps into the wound. Hunter let out a low hiss and his face screwed up in pain. Crosshair placed a hand on his forehead, trying to sooth him but it had to opposite effect. Much like the blaster fire, Hunter began to panic and thrash.

"Don't.. don't touch me," Hunter whispered. 

Moving quickly, Echo quickly used his knee to pin down Hunter's arm and move to forceps just a little further in. That's when he felt something hard, and quickly grasped in. 

"Got it," Echo sighed with relief and pulled out a tiny chip. "Its a tracker." Dropping the bloody metal into his palm, Echo crushed it on one deft move. 

"Brace!" Wrecker yelled and the two barley had enough time to grab onto Hunter before the ship shuttered from the impact of a cannon fire.

"Just a bit closer," Tech gritted out, edging the shuttles controls so the remaining last TIE was in a clear line with their guns.

He didn't even need to give the order for Wrecker to squeeze the trigger, taking out the Imperial fighter with three rapid shots. They locked eyes and let out a sigh of relief as the shuttle barreled through the debris and towards the planets surface. _Towards home_. 

"Someone get back here!" Crosshair called out and Wrecker didn't need to be told twice as launched himself from the co-pilots seat to makeshift medical station. 

Hunter had begun to convulse- his body was shaking worse than before and breaths were being ripped from his chest. Knowing that they had to keep him from hurting himself, Wrecker grabbing onto Hunter's unrestrained legs. When Hunter screamed in pain, Wrecker realized that where he had gripped was raw and bloody. But then again, it seemed like there wasn't a part of him that had gone unmarked. 

"He's having heart arrhythmia," Crosshair declared, "I need to get a downer into his system that won't kill him. It's not going to be pleasant." 

"We need to get him to a doctor," Echo said, mentally filing through the few allies they had made over the past year. _But who are we willing to put in danger like that? Nobody is safe from the Empire._

" 'm not," Hunter mumbled. "I'm not going to tell you anything. I'm not-"

"Hunter, its me. It's Echo," Echo said. "You're safe. We're on the way back to the Havoc."

Hunter looked up, eyes focusing for just a second to lock with Echo's, and with absolute certainty said. "It's not you. You're not real. I'm going to die here."

Crosshair uncapped a green syringe and gently pushed Hunter's head to the side, exposing his neck. He noticed a yellowing bruise that was suspiciously in the shape of a human hand but had to push that thought to the back of his mind. He couldn't focus on any injury that wasn't life threatening- but he had a suspicion about who had left it there. When the needle plunged into his neck, Hunter let out a shaky exhale but started to relaxed. 

Once they were certain that Hunter was out cold, Wrecker and Echo slowly let go of their vice-tight grip. Echo moved to sit by Hunter's head, crossing his legs and gently bringing the Sargent's head to rest in his lap. He just needed to make sure that Hunter was still breathing, still alive.

"What about that couple on Yanos V that we met a few months back?" Crosshair said, bandaging Hunter's bleeding bicep. "Weren't they medics during the war?"

"That's to far away. And... they have children." 

Crosshair nodded, clearly understanding the risk. "Well we can't go back to Beona. Ka'vah's place is compromised." 

Wrecker tapped his chin. "That Bothan doctor, the one that owes us a favor, what was his name? Edis?"

"He isn't a doctor, he's a glorified plastic surgeon," Crosshair snapped- that mission had not gone well for him.

"It's the best idea we have right now," Echo said as he checked Hunter's pulse. It was weak but steady. 

The shuttle ride was an agonizing fifteen minutes, with each second feeling like an eon. Echo had been certain that once they had Hunter back, that a huge wave of relief would wash over him and all would be right. But that had yet to strike. If anything, he was starting to have a creeping suspicion that the easiest part was over. As for what was ahead... 

"Starting landing sequence," Tech finally announced from the cockpit. 

Before the shuttle even fully touched the ground, Wrecker and Crosshair were on their feet and opening the back ramp. The second the struts hit the grass, they leapt out and sprinted towards the Havoc Marauder. Echo gently moved Hunter's head from his lap back onto the ground before pulling himself to his feet. Frowning at the fact Tech hadn't joined them, Echo stepped between the two piloting seats.

Tech's hands were still clutching the controls, and his face was white as a sheet. Echo could hear a faint _drip drip_ and when he looked down, there was a sizable amount of blood surrounding the piloting chair. His leg must of been freely bleeding for some amount of time. 

"I'm think I'm going to pass out now," Tech announced calmly before falling forward. 

Echo caught him before his face could slam into the controls, then, being careful to avoid jostling his leg to much, he picked the smaller Clone up bridal style. He carried him down the ramp and caught up to Crosshair and Wrecker, who had placed Hunter on a small gurney that they had retrieved from the ship. 

"Is he that bad?" Crosshair asked, the worry clear on his face as Echo walked past them. 

"Its your turn to give up some blood," he replied, closing the short distance between the shuttle and Havoc. 

They didn't have the time to properly dock the shuttle with the ship, so they decided to abandon it and hopefully return for it later. It seemed like a distance worry since, once onboard the ship, they worked to converted the small medical station into an ICU. As Echo and Wrecker began to stabilize the two injured members, Crosshair ran towards he front of the ship to enter the coordinates for the Bothan doctor's hideout. Echo tightened the tourniquet around Tech's leg, tying it snug in place, but frowned at the silence in the air. 

He sensed that something was wrong- _the engines should be warming up by now_. 

"I'll be right back," Echo announced, wiping Tech's blood from his hands. 

When he entered to common area, right where the group had dumped all their gear he found Crosshair. The sniper was digging through Tech's pack. 

"What are you doing?" Echo asked, "We need to get going."

Without looking up from his search, Crosshair replied. "Where's Tech's datapad?"

"We don't have time for this! Go put in the coordinates to Edis's. Maybe he'll know a real doctor. Worst case-"

"I'm going to blow that fucking ship out of the sky," Crosshair snarled. "Where is it!" 

Echo blinked, taking a few seconds to process the sniper's words. "Cross, we can't."

"Like hell. Where. Is. It?" Crosshair shot to his feet, and turned to face Echo. 

"Crosshair. Cody is still on that ship."

"Who cares? You saw what he did to Hunter! No _Clone_ would every subject another Clone to that level of...," He trailed off. "That thing on the ship- it wasn't Cody. Not anymore." 

"You don't know that," Echo said quietly, almost ashamed. 

"I see," Crosshair nodded, "Still looking out for Regs first, huh? Over us- your real family. Your only family left." 

Echo flinched. "Get this ship in the air. That;s an order."

Seeming to lower his hackles, Crosshair let out a humorless laugh. "Orders, huh?"

But to much of Echo's relief, the fighting spirit seemed to leave Crosshair as he stormed into the cockpit.

Echo returned to their little makeshift medical bay, feeling to exhausted to be angry. 

"Everything alright?" Wrecker asked as he started to set up saline bags above Hunter and Tech. 

Echo just nodded and started to remove the armor surrounding Techs wound. After a few minutes, he felt the slight rumble as the engines kicked on. He wasn't sure how long he was on his feet after that- he didn't even have time to tend to his own wounds because it was a constant moving between Tech and Hunter.

Tech was easy enough to stabilize, quickly putting him on painkillers and cleaning the wound with bacta. Hunter, on the other hand, they were at a complete loss for how to treat. He would stay subdued for a while, but then shoot back awake- completely unaware of where he was at. If Echo had to guess, he would say that the sudden withdraw from whatever the Empire had him on was starting to mess with his mind.

Crosshair and Echo, who barley even looked at each other, had enough of a truce to worry that putting Hunter on any more drugs would make it worse. So, they would allow him to wear himself out. Hunter would thrash and fight against their hold until all the energy was sapped from his body and then go still. He seemed reluctant to sleep, instead just starting up at the florescent lights and didn't react when either Crosshair or Echo would redress his wounds. 

Finally, at some point during the hyperjump, Wrecker grabbed Echo by the shoulders and steered him into his sleeping quarters. He shoved a ration bar into Echo's hand. 

"Eat." Wrecker instructed. "Sleep."

"But-"

"I'll wake you up in an hour."

"You better." 

Wrecker shut the lights off and Echo sat on the ground. He was to exhausted to strip from his armor and to dirty to lay in his bed. So, he took a bite from the ration and laid on the ground. 

_Battlefield bunk,_ Echo remembered the term as he closed his eyes. 

He knew it was bad when the cold metal ground felt comfortable. But as much as he wanted to, Echo found himself unable to rest. It didn't help that ever few minutes he could hear Hunter desperately yell for _someone,_ or the fact that a few hours ago he had seen a ghost. 

"Cody," Echo muttered sadly, rolling on his side and finally closing his eyes. 

The only comfort during his short rest was that they were finally back together- and Echo swore he was going to keep it that way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact I updated this fic before we got the official release date actually breaks my heart. <3


	10. Between Two Lungs

With an odd sense of deja vu, Echo once again found himself underneath the course plotter in the cockpit. The step-down transformer kept short-circuiting and frying the wiring, leaving Echo frustrated and ready to rip the damned thing out. Instead, he let out a deep sigh and he dropped his tools to give up. He laid on the cold ground and felt his eye-lids grow heavy. 

Everyone on the _Havoc_ had been on a non-existent sleep schedule since fleeing the _Contrivance._ Between keeping an eye on Hunter and running the ship on standby- just in case they needed to leave in a hurry- there was always at least two of the Batch awake at any given moment. This created to a toxic mix of irritability and insomnia that once would have boiled over into fighting, but not anymore. Now there was much more at stake and they needed to keep it together. 

For Hunter's sake. 

There was suddenly a loud clattering that came from the kitchen, causing Echo to blink back to awareness. He was still getting used to the fact that such noises could reverberate freely through the ship.

When the Batch had gotten Hunter back onto the ship, the first night they quickly discovered that the sound of doors opening and shutting would send the Sargent into a full blown panic attack. They had no idea why, but no one was eager to repeat the experience and Tech quickly reset all the interior doors- except the fresher- to remain open. It helped keep Hunter calm, so everyone endured listening to Wrecker snore and Tech's tinkering. 

Echo quickly stood up on sore legs and stepped into the kitchen to investigate. Tech was in the room, alone, standing in front of the caff machine and watching the dark brew slowly trickle into the pot. He didn't notice Echo's entrance and seemed to be lost in thought. 

"Morning," Echo greeted, walking over to the far cabinet to where his personal 'Galaxy's #1 Brother' mug was hidden away.

Tech only hummed in response, his eyes not leaving the settling caff. Echo noted the dark circles that hung under his eyes and couldn't recall seeing him sleep in the past few days. Maybe that was because they usually took their watch shift together, but the rare time they hadn't, Tech spent his six hours furiously typing away on his data-pad. It wasn't his normal set up, but a special data-processor to try and sort through the encrypted files he managed to download in the server room. Still, it wasn't the proper equipment for the job and it was a slow process sifting through thousands of bytes worth of data. 

Echo reached around Tech and picked up the steaming pot. He poured himself a healthy amount before nodding towards Tech's blue mug with white font that read 'running code is my cardio'. 

"How much do you want? Half-cup?" Echo probed. 

"Hmm? No, I'm good," Tech replied, seeming to snap out of his trance. 

"Whats wrong?" Echo asked, raising an eyebrow- it was a bad sign if Tech was refusing caff. "Is your leg feeling okay?"

He took a sip from his mug and gagged, almost spitting back up the caff. It was to strong, even by Echo's standards, so he discreetly slid the mug far from his own reach. 

"I thought that was my line?" Tech joked, but then shook his head. "No, I'm alright. It's Hunter, he-"

"What's wrong? Why didn't you get me?" Echo immediately said, feeling a surge of panic as he rushed over to the door frame leading into Hunter's room. He peered into the darkness to find it empty. "Where is he?"

Echo was about to call out for Hunter but stopped when he turned around and looked through the opposite room's entryway. In the lower bunk was Crosshair, sleeping rigidly on his back- as if he were in a coffin. Curled up next to him and tucked under his arm was Hunter. They were both sound asleep, and even Hunter looked peaceful.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Echo slunk back to the kitchen and felt slightly embarrassed at his overreaction. 

"Calm down," Tech chided, "I was just going to say that Hunter had another bad nightmare a few hours ago."

"How bad are we talking?"

Tech thought about it for a moment. "A seven out of ten. I think those new sleeping medications are making it worse."

"He didn't hurt himself, did he?"

"No, but he almost tore his stitches again," Tech explained. "And he wouldn't calm down until he saw Crosshair."

"We need to get that shoulder to heal," Echo said, scrubbing a hand over his face as if to wipe away the exhaustion. "Or else it's going to get infected." 

"That would require keeping him still for at least a week. And we both know that's not going to happen."

Echo could see the worry clear on Tech's face, but it seemed worse than usual. "There's something else, isn't there?" 

Glancing over warily at the open bedroom door, Tech motioned for Echo to follow him to the far side of the kitchen and out of earshot. He picked up and opened the decryption data-pad and began to scroll through multiple screens. 

"I finally managed to decrypt part of Agent Grimbol's personal file," Tech started, but trailed off with a thousand-yard stare. 

"Shouldn't that be good news?" 

"That would depend on your definition of 'good'. I haven't found anything substantial yet. Hell, I can't even figure out what his first name is," Tech slid his goggles onto his forehead and wiped at his eyes. "But... do you remember how Nylo said that Grimbol built his career after finding a Jedi?" 

Echo's blood went cold. "Don't tell me it was-"

"It was nobody that we knew, because Grimbol didn't find a 'Jedi'," Tech's voice hitched. "He found a youngling."

"What?"

"They must have somehow escaped the temple massacre and fled to the lower levels of Coruscant. Grimbol tracked them down to where they were being hidden by Jedi sympathizers and executed them right then and there," Tech's eyes became misty. "They couldn't have been older than eight." 

"Not even old enough to have a lightsaber," Echo whispered, feeling sick. 

"I'm sure that there's plenty of other nasty things in here," Tech said, putting his goggles back on. "But no mention of a 'Project Shrike' so far." 

_This is a man who built a career on murdering a helpless child_ , _and I let him walk away,_ Echo thought angrily, barley listening to Tech. _I should've killed him when I had then chance._

"I'll let you know when I find more," Tech continued, about to walk away to his work station. 

"Actually, why don't you take a break for a bit?" Echo asked gently. "Staring at a screen for that long can't be good for your eyes." 

Tech chuckled. "Well, I'm afraid I'm not going to get much sleep now." 

"Then why don't you help me make some breakfast?" Echo suggested. "I'm sure Wrecker will want to start his watch with a big stack of pancakes." 

"Alright," Tech reluctantly set down the data-pad. "But the important question is if we have any syrup left."

Eager to get their minds off Grimbol, the two Batcher's got to work digging out all the ingredients from the rather disorganized pantry. Echo was just happy to be working on anything except that damned course plotter and talking with Tech about ideas for prosthetic upgrades got his mind off of the events of the past two weeks.

* * *

Three long hours after escaping to _Contrivance,_ Crosshair slammed the _Havoc_ down on the backwater marsh planet where Edis, their Bothan bone-saw doctor contact, had a dingy operating theater set up. They had done a job for Edis a few months back that involved stealing a large shipment of ingredients used to make medical-grade narcotics. But credits were credits, and they hadn't had the resources to be picky. 

His operating theater was set up in the basement of a droid repair store, and was mostly where people on the run went to get facial alteration surgery on the cheap. It was a far cry from an actual emergency operating room but as Wrecker kicked open the door, it now felt like a blessing to see more sophisticated medical equipment. Edis looked up from his current patient- a human who was getting a new nose and a higher brow line. His gaze traveled from Wrecker to Hunter, being held by Echo and Crosshair, then to Tech, who was leaning on a crutch to stay off of his heavily bandaged leg. The Bothan didn't seemed phased by the state they were all in. 

"You'll have to wait your turn," Edis said and turned back to his current patient. 

Tech drew one of his pistols and leveled it with Edis's face. "I think we just moved to the front of the line." 

The 'doctor' let out an annoyed sigh before pointing to an unoccupied table."Put your friend down there and I'll be with you in just a second. 'don't feel like handling two dead patients today."

Crosshair snarled at the smart comment, but followed his instructions. They lowered Hunter onto the table carefully as they could because, if at all possible, Hunter was looking even worse than when they had first found him. He had already bled through his bandages and was shaking terribly. Echo was certain that the transfusion was the only reason Hunter had enough strength to momentarily wake and try to fight against their grip- before promptly passing back out. 

"This isn't exactly my expertise," Edis warned but still began the process of setting up a saline drip. 

"You're our only option," Echo admitted. "We can pay you, or run another job like before." 

Edis considered the deal before finally speaking. "I'll try," he walked over to a crate where he then pulled out four padded leather strap. "But before I start, he needs to be restrained."

Echo's throat went dry. "No-"

"This isn't up for debate." 

"He's already hurt from that!" Wrecker argued, pointed to the raw bands around Hunter's wrists. "It'll just hurt him more." 

"From what I can tell, surface abrasions are the least of his issues. And I'm not about to get my head taken off trying to save him," Edis crossed his arms defiantly. 

They were all frozen with indecision until Hunter let out a low cry of pain. It was enough to jar Crosshair, who grabbed the straps from Edis's grip. "Fine." 

Echo moved to help, reaching out with unsteady hands to gently push Hunters arm down next to a metal bar that the strap could be secured to. Crosshair quickly looped it through and cinched it down- not tight enough to restrict blood flow but snug enough the keep his armed pinned. 

As soon as the strap was tightened, the sensation caused Hunter's eyes to flutter open. They all tensed, ready for him to start thrashing and screaming but were surprised when he went rigid, all of his muscles seeming to lock in place. His breathing, which had been shallow and labored, picked up rapidly until he was gasping for air. 

"He's hyperventilating," Echo said, turning to the doctor. "Do something!"

"Not until he's secured," the Bothan replied stubbornly. 

Echo was certain that he would have shot Edis right then and there is he wasn't the only doctor around for miles. 

"Just hurry," Echo said to Crosshair, who was fumbling with the second strap. He then turned back to Hunter. "You're safe, we're trying to help you. I promise you're safe." 

"I'm not... I'm not going to tell you anything," Hunter said in a low voice, then cried out when the opposite arm was tied down.

"Wrecker, help me," Crosshair said, moving down to secure Hunter's legs.

The large Clone nodded, leaving Tech standing alone and Echo watched as Tech began to sway on his feet. 

"Why don't you sit down?" Echo said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We'll have Edis look at you next."

Before Tech could answer, Crosshair clasped the last padded straps. Hunter weakly pulled against them, his head rolling to the side to give Crosshair a frightened look. 

"I'm sorry! Just- just stop!" Hunter yelled with more force that any of them thought possible. "Just kill me already."

What little color was left in Tech's face quickly drained and it was easy for Echo to maneuver him into a chair. 

"Can you get me-" Tech started, but then pointed at a small trashcan. Echo grabbed it as fast as he could and put it between Tech's legs seconds before he started retching. 

Edis shot Tech a sympathetic look. "You all might want to make yourselves comfortable. This might take a while." He paused as another cry from Hunter echoed through the small operating room. "And I would also recommend a good pair of ear plugs." 

So, they waited in the small basement for hours in silence as Edis slowly worked from injury to injury. It was crude, almost barbaric, without a full bacta tank to submerge Hunter in. The Bothan had to stitch the ragged flesh back together and about halfway through ran out of localized anesthetic. Blood began to trickle from the table and onto the dirty ground, running towards a small drain. But if Hunter could feel any of the procedure, he gave no indication. 

"Well, that should be it for the external injuries," Edis finally said as outside the sun began to rise. "I'm surprised he had no internal injuries, given the state that he was in."

"That can't be possible," Tech said. "It looks like he was beaten to an inch of his life." 

"I did find evidence that he's received medical care in the past day or so," Edis replied. "There were several wounds that had rapid scarring build up around the edges. Which most likely means the wound was artificially healed then reopened multiple times."

Crosshair cursed and buried his face in his hands. Tech looked back down at the trashcan, as if contemplating to throw up again. And that seemed to be the last straw for Wrecker. 

"I'm gonna go take a walk," he announced and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. It was code for 'going to destroy something on the ship'.

Echo made no attempt to try and stop Wrecker. He was just imagining an endless cycle of torture at the hands of the Imperials- probably not unlike his own with the Techno-Union. Hour after hour of medical procedures, implanting wiring and metal. Echo could recall a few moments of lucidity where he begged them just to end his pain. But the fact it was at the hands of someone Hunter had considered a friend, a _brother..._ Echo considered asking Tech for a moment with the waste bin. 

Shrugging at their turmoil, Edis grabbed an empty syringe and went back to his patient. The Sargent had passed out hours ago, most likely from the pain, so the doctor had no issue drawing a large vial of blood. He then took the sample and ran it through a scanner. In his line of work, Edis had to deal with plenty of junkies and drug runners coming off highs, so he knew what signs to look for. But what was vexing him was why a Clone commando was exhibiting the same symptoms as a spice-user. 

When the results beeped back, Edis let out a huff of laughter. "When were you boys going to tell me that your friend here is higher than a kite?" 

"What are you talking about?" Crosshair spat, his normal scowl twisting into a venomous expression. 

"I ran a blood sample, out of curiosity," Edis replied. "Hell of a party drug he's on, never seen anything like this before. Where did you get score it?"

"Trust me, the less you know the better," Echo said. "Is he going to be alright? Its not... hurting him, is it?"

The Bothan tapped his furry chin. "Well, the best way I can describe what's traveling through your friends bloodstream is a fun mix of hallucinogens and roofies, with a pinch of tranquilizers." 

"That doesn't sound good." Tech's voice was very small. 

"I'm honestly surprised his heart is still beating. And it's no wonder he can't tell up from down. How long has he been on it?" 

"We're not sure," Echo said. "It could be anywhere from a week to a month."

Edis grimaced and walked over to the door that lead into the operating theater. He flipped the sign hanging from the door from 'open' to 'closed' before once again shutting it. 

"I'll try and make him comfortable," Edis said. "But this isn't going to be pretty- and I wasn't joking about those ear plugs." 

And the Bothan was right. It took two days for Hunter to come down off the drugs and three more for him to stop shaking and form a coherent sentence. His heart had stopped twice during those days, and he tore through his switches so many times that both Wrecker and Crosshair were constantly having their blood drawn for transfusions. On the third night, Hunter's fever had spiked so high that Tech and Echo went on a desperate search through the town to find enough ice to fill up a basin. When they submerged their Sargent into the ice-bath, Edis just shook his head. 

"Never seen someone this resilient before," he commented offhandedly before walking to grab a new saline bag. 

It was good that the basement was soundproofed because by the time Hunter had fallen unconscious, Echo's ears were ringing. The worst part was when Hunter called out their names. The person being called for would, of course, run to his side, but he would just look through them- as if they were transparent- and continue to cry out. Sometimes he would ask for their help, and other times he would beg them not to hurt him. And then he started to shout for Cody, and it sent stabbing pains through Echo's heart. Finally, the last name to fall from his lips before going still was '99'. 

After that night, Crosshair would disappear back to the ship for hours at a time. Nobody blamed him- they all picked up self destructive tendencies. Tech refused to sleep, and Wrecker couldn't bring himself to eat. Echo, for some reason, found himself unable to sit still. He would pace around the room, walking the same path over and over. And no matter how much pain laced through his thighs and back, he just couldn't sit in one of the waiting chairs. 

Finally, after five days of being crammed into the basement, Hunter was stable enough to be moved back to the ship. Tech had compiled a list of planets that they had never visited before and that had minimal Imperial activity, then chose one at random. They had already stayed on that planet for to long, and knew that the Imperials would find them- sooner rather than later.

"Thank you," Echo said, shaking Edis's fur covered hand. 

"Just don't make this a habit," he warned, "And you owe me, big time."

"And we'll honor it," Echo replied. 

The Bothan just gave a disgruntled huff before disappearing back downstairs. Crosshair walked back down the ramp of the _Havoc_ and stood next to Echo. He noted that the dusty ground leading to the shop still had dark blood stains caked into the dirt. 

"So what now?" Crosshair asked. 

"I... I don't know," Echo admitted. "I really don't know." 

* * *

Tech and Echo had almost finished preparing breakfast when there was a loud _thud_ came from the sleeping quarters. Before they could go investigate, Wrecker ran out dressed in only sweatpants with his comm-link in hand.

"What's going on?" Echo asked, but Wrecker rushed past them and into the cockpit. 

The two Batcher's exchanged looks concerned looks. 

"This aught to be good," Tech sighed, and started to follow the large Clone but at a much slower pace. 

By the time they walked in, Wrecker had pulled up a holo of Ka'vah and they seemed to be in mid-conversation. It must have been night on Beona, because Ka'vah was dressed in her normal elaborate attire. However, this time she had traded in the gold jewelry for silver. It complimented the high collared, midnight blue dress she was wearing, which also had a long train trailing behind her. 

"- not sure what it means," the Togruta was saying, but paused when she spotted the new faces. "Echo! Tech! Its great to see you both still breathing."

"As good as it is to see you, it's a little risky to be making contact with us right now," Echo said, glaring at Wrecker. "I don't know if you heard, but we put a large hole into the side of an Imperial spy ship."

"I know you said no communication, but this is important!" Wrecker said defensively. "You'll want to hear this." 

"Hear what?" a voice grumbled and Crosshair walked into the room, rubbing at his eyes. His hair was mussed from sleep and there hadn't been enough time for the normal scowl to set on his face for the day. 

"I'm sorry- did we wake you up?" Echo said in lieu of a greeting. 

"No. A two-ton idiot throwing himself out of the top rack did a fine enough job," Crosshair jabbed a finger at Wrecker. "You're lucky that stunt didn't wake up Hunter. He just settled back down." 

"And how is he?" Ka'vah asked. 

All the Clones exchanged looks. 

"He's..." Echo paused, trying to think of the right wording. "He's recovering." 

"That's good," she said, then began to nervously twist the rings on her right hand. 

"Well what did you wanna tell us?" Wrecker asked with a frown, "You look like you have one foot in a sarlacc pit." 

"I was contacted by the freedom fighters on Idhis," Ka'vah finally said. "Whats left of them, that is." 

"What do you mean?" Tech said. 

"I received a transmission from them an hour ago. An Imperial squad raided their base, rounded them up, and executed them. Only two managed to escape."

They all paled, thinking back to that job. It had really been more of a favor for Ka'vah and it required stealing munitions from the local army and giving them to the insurgents. 'Insurgents' was a strong word to call the group, seeing that they were mostly normal people who had been pushed to their limits by the Empire. They all had very little fighting experience, but were willing to do what it took to protect their family. About half of the group were teenagers, eager to fight, and elderly folks ready to lend a hand. When the Batch had returned with a whole truck full of weapons and explosives, the group had insisted that they stay and share a meal. The night was spent around a large fire, eating and sharing war stories. Tech had even mustered up the courage to flirt back with one of the insurgents. 

"How did the Empire know their location?" Wrecker said, dumbfounded. "We had issues finding the base, and it used to be a GAR outpost."

There was a heavy silence, and no one dared to speak. 

"Oh." 

“Wait.” Crosshair frowned, “You can't seriously think that _Hunter_ told the Empire about Idhis."

“It's a possibility that crossed my mind,” she admitted, “And I don't like it any more than you-"

“Hunter would never talk,” Tech interjected. "We all went through very intensive anti-interrogation training on Kamino. And even if we hadn't, Hunter would never give anyone up." 

“The Empire had him for what, a month? That's enough time for anyone to crack.”

“No, not him." Tech insisted. 

"I hope your right, I really do. But the timelines are just to to close," Ka'vah bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I just wanted you to be aware to avoid Idhis."

"So how many?"

The four Batcher's whipped around to see Hunter standing in the doorway, clutching onto the frame for support. He was dressed in one of Wrecker's long sleeved shirts, which hung from his slight frame. His long pants were tucked into a thick pair of socks, but even with the layers, he was still shivering. It seemed to take Ka'vah a moment to recognize their Sargent, and Echo didn't blame her. Hunter hadn't shaved since before he had been taken, and now a ragged beard grew across his face. It did little to hide how gaunt his cheeks were. 

"We gotta go," Wrecker said quickly, giving Ka'vah a sad look before hanging up the holo. 

"How many did I get killed?" Hunter repeated, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath as if to brace himself. 

"We don't know for a fact that," Tech stopped, trying to figure out how to phrase it. "That you were the source of information." 

"You should really lay back down," Crosshair added, taking a step towards him. 

Hunter shook his head and held out a hand to stop Crosshair. "I'm going to go sit outside for a bit. I need to get some fresh air."

He turned and left before anyone could say anything, and they could hear the external door open and shut. The cockpit went silent and they all glanced among themselves. They knew that there was nothing that they could say or do to try and comfort Hunter. At this point, it was what Crosshair referred to as 'damage control'. 

"I'll go talk to him," Tech decided then ran out of the room. 

"So..." Echo asked awkwardly when nobody else made a move, "Either of you want to help me get this plotter working?" 

"I'm going back to sleep," Crosshair snapped and stormed away. 

"I'll help you buddy," Wrecker said.

Echo sighed. "I just... You don't actually think that he-?"

"I don't think Hunter _wanted_ to say anything," Wrecker said. "But that doesn't mean that he didn't say anything."

"Wow. That might of been the wisest thing you've ever said," Echo replied.

"Hey! I'm full of wisdom."

"Nah, you're just full of it," Echo joked lightly, then picked up his tools that had been abandoned an hour before. "And Ka'vah looked nice." 

The large Clone brightened up, together they worked until the plotter was fixed. Echo kept an ear open to see if Hunter had returned, but only heard a lighter pair of feet belonging to Tech walk through the ship. They ran some tests, and once Echo was satisfied with their work, the two Batcher's went to the common room to put the tool kit away. On the way through the kitchen, they found Tech angrily drying dishes and putting them away. Echo could tell that something was wrong by the simple clue that Tech was slamming the cabinets so hard they would bounce back open. 

"Is he okay?" Echo asked. 

Tech slammed a plate down with such force that he was surprised it didn't shatter.

"No, Echo, he's not 'okay'. He can't stand breathing the recycled air because he was in that medical room for so long. He can't sleep, he can hardly eat. And now, he blames himself for Idhis. He thinks he has blood on his hands."

"Don't yell at me!" Echo shot back, frustration boiling over. "You think I don't know these things!? I'm the one who has to deal with his nightmares because you're to afraid that he's going to ask you not to hurt him again."

"You take that back," Tech demanded, turning so that he was chest to chest with Echo. 

Wrecker quickly wedged his arms between them and pushed the two Clones back. "Stop! This isn't helping."

Echo glared past Wrecker, "I thought you were going to try and get him back inside. He needs to be resting, not sitting out in the cold." 

"I don't know what you want from me!" Tech threw his arms in the air. "I'm not going to force him to stay in bed." 

Taking in a deep breath, Echo tried and calm himself because Wrecker was right- infighting wasn't going to solve anything. But he was just so tired. Tired of being so scared, and waiting for the other shoe to drop and their family to be torn apart again.

So instead, Echo just simply asked, "Has he eaten today?" 

"I took him breakfast," Tech replied, seeming to calm down a bit. "I don't know if he ate it- he said he wanted to be alone." 

Echo nodded and went to the fridge, pulling out a container of broth. As he heated it up, Tech grabbed a bottle of water and prepared a hot thermos.

"Tea," he explained, handing both bottles to Echo. 

Echo tucked both the items under his arm and gave Tech a curt nod before heading outside. 

The small planet they had been hiding out on for the past few days was uninhabited, except for the flora and fauna. There was a consistent, thick fog that blanketed the ground and sky, making everything damp and cool. They had landed the _Havoc_ _Marauder_ next to a large lake which appeared to be black in color. Tech had explained that it was due to the fact the lake was so deep and that there was no sunlight to reflect off the surface. Even with that explanation, it gave Echo an eerie feeling.

Hunter was sitting on the rocky shore, just a few feet away from the water. Tech had laid out a blanket to sit on, and a second, warmer blanket was wrapped around Hunter's shoulders. As Echo approached, he made sure to kick a few rocks to make sure he was heard. But when he reached the blanket, Hunter still hadn't acknowledged Echo- he kept his gaze locked towards the middle of the lake. 

"Hey," Echo finally said and realized that they hadn't had a conversation- a real one- since the day Hunter had been taken. "I brought you lunch." 

"Thank you," Hunter replied softly, but made no move to accept the food. 

So Echo set the lunch down on the edge of the blanket, and was about to walk away before having second thoughts. Careful to give Hunter plenty of space, Echo sat on the cold ground about an arms length away. They sat in silence, the only noise being an occasional creak from the ship as the struts resettled on the soft ground. 

"I didn't tell them anything," Hunter's hoarse voice cut through the calm air, "When they had me strung up, beat and cutting into me, I didn't tell them anything." 

Echo blinked, trying to comprehend what he was saying. "It's okay-"

"But then, then Grimbol and the Doctors did _something_ to me. It- it trapped me inside of my own head, my own nightmares. The only way out was to tell _it_ things, but I didn't know what I was actually saying. I thought it was all a dream. It felt like a dream..."

"Hunter, they put you through hell," Echo said, turning to face the Sargent. "And, it may not feel like it, but I do understand what you're going through. When I was in that stasis chamber, it didn't feel like I was creating those plans. And it took me a while to realize that all those brothers died, that's not on me. That was the Separatists. The same goes for Idhis- that was the Empire that killed them, not you."

Hunter shook his head. His hair had fallen out of the loose bun it had been pulled up in and now hung well past his shoulders.

"It felt like a dream," he repeated, then frowned as if he had remembered something. "It had to be, because I thought-" he paused. "I thought I saw Cody there, in the room with me." Hunter must have caught Echo's involuntarily wince, because the sadness that haunted his face morphed into horror. "No. No, it couldn't have been him. Cody wouldn't have done this to me."

All Echo wanted was to grab Hunter and pull him into a tight hug. But as he started to move forward, Hunter shrunk back.

"His chip is still activated," Echo explained, "I don't think that he's aware of what he's doing. I tried- I tried to talk to him but he didn't even seem to recognize his own name." 

Silent tears started to trace down Hunter's face as the gravity of what had happened to him settled in. "What else? What else are we going to have to endure before this is all over?"

"I don't know," Echo admitted and was at a loss as to what to say. "What... what do you want to do now?"

A selfish part of Echo wanted to see the fire re-ignite in Hunter's eyes, one that was often followed by a smirk and a clever plan. That same part of him wanted for things to go back to normal- just the five members of the Bad Batch making their own way in the galaxy, no orders and no plan. Back when they could afford not to care about the Empire or the implications of thousands of brothers with activated chips. But most of all, he just wanted Hunter to go back to being _okay._

But instead, Hunter just pulled the blanket tighter around himself. "I think I want to rest for a while."

So, they continued to sit and watch the motionless water until the untouched tea had long gone cold. During that time, Echo ran Hunter's question through his head over and over again. After everything they had been through- the war and the betrayal, and now the Empire hunting them down- what else could the galaxy possibly have in store? 

* * *

When the Commander stepped off the shuttle and into the recently rebuilt hanger bay, he took a deep breath of familiar recycled air. It was the first time he had stepped foot on the _Contrivance_ since the incident two weeks earlier that forced all personnel to evacuate. After a salvage team managed to stabilize the destroyer, it had to be towed to a shipyard for extensive repairs. Being displaced didn't bother the Commander. During that time, he had lead a squad to Idhis to clear out a nest of insurgents. 

As he had lined up his prisoners to face the firing squad, the Commander had gotten the first headache since facing off against that defective ARC Trooper. And from that point on, the headaches had become more and more frequent. The useless Imperial doctor said it was probably due to head trauma that occurred during the fight, but the Commander doubted it. With each headache came the memories of their conversation. It was haunting him, and he wasn't sure why. 

The Commander promptly returned to his private quarters that was in the same state as when he evacuated. He had no personal effects and all his gear was neatly stowed and locked. The only item he had to pick up off the ground was his pillow. After removing his armor, which still had specs of blood from Idhis coating the white paint, the Commander sat at his desk and began to scroll through reports that were being sent up the chain-of-command. 

He was halfway through a poorly written report from the Agent placed on Beona when there was a hesitant knock at the door. With a frown, he opened it to find a Junior Officer dressed in greys. As soon as they made eye contact with the Commander, they shrunk back slightly. The Commander wasn't sure if it was the shock of seeing a Clone, or perhaps from the ragged scar that ran down his face.

"Er, Commander, we recovered your helmet from medical room 301," the Junior Officer said, handing him back his old white helmet.

The last time he had seen it was during his fight with the ARC, and there was still a streak of blood across the front. The Commander just nodded, grabbing it out of their hands before turning around and shutting the door in their face. He had no attachment to this particular helmet, and had been issued a new one when the old helmet couldn't be found. 

_Well, it can't hurt to have a spare_ , he thought and set it on his bed before refocusing on the reports. 

As he worked through an increasingly strong headache, the Commander began to hear a noise. It was a faint static that would fun for a few seconds before fading. After a three cycles of the noise, he began to look around for the source. 

_Perhaps it's a malfunction in the intercom system_ , but then there was another burst of static that was much louder than before.

He turned to face his bed, and watched as a red light started to blink from the inside of the helmet. Hesitantly, he picked it up and examine it, determining that it was a perfectly normal, standard issued, Imperial helmet. The Commander placed it over his head to find the internal comms system contained a recorded message. He knew that he should have immediately taken it off and marched down to security, but something stopped him. And before he could comprehend what he was doing, he pressed play. 

_"I don't have a lot of time, so you need to listen very carefully. Your name is Cody. You were the Marshal Commander of the 212th Clone Battalion during the war, and served underneath Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi. I was with the 501st, which was lead by your little brother Rex. I know that these names mean something to you. And I also know that you won't believe me, but every Clone was implanted with control chips that caused us turn on our Jedi. I don't know why, or who gave the order, but my brother Fives died for that information. So that we could save you. And I promise Cody- that's what were going to do. We'll save you-"_

Before the Commander could hear the end of the message, he ripped the helmet off and slammed it onto the ground. He could still hear the ARCS faint voice, so he brought a booted foot down and completely smashed the damned thing. As it broke, the room started to spin and he saw flashes of a life that wasn't his own.

There were smiling Clones in yellow-and-white armor that were painting something crude onto the hull of a gunship; a blonde Clone rolling his eyes and saying ' _just another day with the Generals_ '; and a human in a mix of robes and armor that stepped in front of him, igniting a lightsaber. ' _Get behind me_!' the human yelled before deflecting a blaster bolt the Commander knew would've gone through his heart. Then there were four Clones that weren't exactly Clones, stepping out of a large ship with pinup art on the nose. ' _What suicide mission do you have for us this time_?" one of them asked smugly, clasping his hand in greeting.

Though the debilitating headache, the Commander had one coherent thought. That those people, whose names he couldn't recall, were somehow his family. 

_But not anymore._

Taking deep breaths to try and get a hold of himself, the Commander turned back to his datapad and opened up a blank screen where he began to draft a new report. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Part one is finally over! Thank you to everyone who has been reading, and who endured that three month hiatus.   
> It's very fitting that in my outline, I have this chapter written down as 'a quick epilogue', but it ended up being the longest chapter. I'm also excited for part two of this story which is going to be... a beach episode. And now- only 65 days until the show premiers!!


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